Black and White
by DrawMeASheep
Summary: COMPLETE. The team investigates the murder of a Naval Lieutenant at the National Zoo while Tony and Ziva try to sort everything out, from their relationship to her gun collection. Sequel to 'No Good Deed.'
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: It fell into some delicious chicken jalfrozie and I can't read what it says on account of the delectable sauce. I guess we can assume I own nothing. And no, you can't share my mango naan.

Summary: Casefile-ish. Who doesn't love pandas? Shorter and fluffier than my last. Hopefully. I promise nothing other than bringing it to a conclusion. It picks up where _No Good Deed_ left off, so that's where you'll find the set up for chapter one.

Spoilers: _Locked_, _Taking it for Granted_ and _No Good Deed_, in that order. They're my fics, not episodes, so don't freak out and think you missed half a season. Anyway, my multichapter fics are now trapped in a continuity warp they've created on their own. If you come across something you don't recall as canon, it's either in one of those or I've just made it up, although it would still fall under the category 'I made it up' if you can find it in one of my other fics, so there you go. I find the most convincing way to exposit is to pretend it's just canon you're rehashing.

* * *

"No, I don't know where he is. He was only a temporary fill-in while I was away and he really shouldn't have been giving this number out to girls he met in bars."

"That's too bad. Well, you sound kinda cute. Maybe we could…"

"I'm not available. Goodbye." Tony slammed the receiver down and muttered, "How many people did that schmuck give this number to?" He kept getting calls for Agent Gaccione, the yahoo who'd taken his place while he was gone. Not long ago, he probably would have accepted a come-on from that anonymous girl, but now…

He sighed as his phone rang again. On the fourth ring, he picked up. "Agent DiNozzo."

"Mmm, so formal," Ziva purred.

He smiled and turned his chair toward the partition, away from Gibbs and McGee. "Hey. And how are you today?"

"Fine. I had my last appointment with the physical therapist this morning and he doesn't think I'm going to have any long-term problems with my shoulder. Then I spent the day at Adi and Eyal's. I can't believe how big Dara is getting already. She's only two weeks old and she seems so much bigger than the day she was born."

"That explains the bedroom voice."

"What?"

"You spent the day with the baby so you've got babies on the brain and you'll do anything to seduce me." He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Gibbs and McGee weren't eavesdropping. "Even over the phone."

Rather than the vehement denial he'd expected, her voice got a little lower and sexier as she replied, "You didn't seem to have a problem with it the other night."

She'd skipped right over his baiting and turned it around on him. He leaned over to further conceal his end of the conversation. "I was at home the other night."

"Since when do you have a problem with phone sex in the office?" She laughed and he wished desperately that she were sitting across the aisle from him. Is this how it was going to be _all the time_ when she got back to work? He was going to have to practice some deep breathing exercises or something.

He tried to get serious. "That was a misunderstanding and you know it. Can you not wait until I see you tomorrow?"

"Tony, you left Israel almost…"

Tony didn't get to hear the rest of what Ziva said as Gibbs grabbed the phone. After listening for a moment, he said, "We've actually never made love, Officer David…I'm doing fine. You're feeling better?…Good. So you'll be back soon? Tomorrow? Okay…okay…goodbye, Ziva." He dropped the phone in its cradle and looked critically at Tony. "She wants you to bring some kind of berry mango thing when meet her at the airport."

He stared at his desk. "Berry Mango Madness, boss."

"How many times do you have to call Israel in a week?"

He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Hey, sometimes Israel calls me."

"You better have this under control when she comes back." Gibbs grabbed his coat off the back of his chair. "I don't want to hear any Palmer and Lee stories about you two."

Tony stood and supported his head on the elbow he leaned against the file cabinet. "Not to stomp all over your goodwill, boss, but you've been awfully lenient about rule number twelve in this case and considering how strict you usually are about that kind of thing…is this really not going to be a problem for you?"

"The rules aren't about me, DiNozzo. Do you know why I came up with number twelve?"

Tony smirked at McGee. "To prevent elevator incidents?"

Gibbs was not amused. "To prevent teammates from making stupid choices. It's not just the relationship baggage that gets in the way, it's the mental stuff. You need a clear head to do this job, and when you get involved with a co-worker, you tend to look to that person first, even when it isn't appropriate in a given situation. If either you or Ziva starts to show preference for the other in your jobs, I won't hesitate to have one of you transferred."

"Understood, boss." He had been worried Gibbs was going to give an irrelevant speech about how awkward it would be when the affair ended, an eventuality for which Tony was not planning to prepare. On the (hopefully) highly unlikely chance that he and Ziva did break up, working together wouldn't be an issue, as he would most likely be out on disability in a full-body cast. He swallowed hard and looked for some less colorful language. "I was afraid you were gonna get all negative about what happens when office relationships end, but I see what you're getting at with the whole focus thing."

"Good." Gibbs took a moment to look Tony over. "I'm going for coffee."

When Gibbs disappeared, McGee folded his hands on his desk and gave Tony a knowing look. "So no sex in the elevator anymore for you and Ziva?"

"Probie, we have DNA evidence that proves it wasn't me." Tony sat and flipped a wadded paper in McGee's direction. "Are you gonna be hung up on that forever?"

"Just because it wasn't you on that occasion doesn't mean you didn't."

Tony grinned. He and Ziva, in fact, had put one of the elevators to good use prior to her unexpected departure. Subsequently, he'd tried to explain the finer points of the Aerosmith song to her. Hadn't McGee been there for that conversation in the squad room? Now probably wasn't the best time to ask. "Innocent until proven guilty, my friend."

"Yeah, well," McGee scratched at the skin on his left hand, "I'm not going through _that_ again."

"Tell you what, Probie. If you think we're misbehaving, you skip telling Gibbs and call her dad so he can have me whacked for you."

"I thought Director David liked you."

"Yeah, Abraham and I were good friends right up to the night before I came home."

"You say something stupid at dinner?"

"I wish." Tony flashed back to the evening prior to his departure from Tel Aviv. Ziva had talked him into proper goodbye, not that he'd needed much convincing. He'd been a little nervous, considering she had been out of the hospital for only ten days, but they'd gone slow and he'd been gentle. Her father hadn't actually walked in until they were enjoying the afterglow. Tony had gotten so scared of what Abraham might do that he had gone for the gun under Ziva's pillow, beating her to it. The door had slammed shut with a stammered apology that sounded more like a curse from the other side of it before either of them had managed to gain control of the weapon. Abraham had already left for the office when they woke the next morning, so Tony hadn't had to face him.

Ziva had assured him repeatedly that her father had gotten over it, but Tony was still glad that there was an ocean separating them. Fathers were unpredictable. Fathers who were also the Director of Moussad? Dangerous.

McGee was still looking at him expectantly. "Well? What did you do?"

Gibbs saved Tony the trouble of replying by giving McGee a smack as he came around the corner with his fresh cup of coffee. He'd stopped bringing it for the whole team since they'd returned from their mission. "Grab your gear. We've got a dead Navy lieutenant."

"Where, boss?" McGee asked, standing as he clipped his gun to his belt.

"It's all happening at the zoo."

Tony buttoned his coat and slung his backpack over his shoulder. "That from a movie, boss? You wouldn't be trying to take my place now, would you?"

"Orangutans are skeptical of changes in their cages," Gibbs replied cryptically, sipping his coffee as he waited for the elevator doors to open.

"Are you calling me a monkey?" Tony asked, consciously stopping himself from scratching his head.

"I believe orangutans are great apes, Tony. Much higher on the evolutionary ladder than monkeys."

"Yeah, thanks, but I have seen _Planet of the Apes_, McGreenPeace."

Gibbs nodded his head sagely as he stepped into the elevator. "The monkeys stand for honesty."


	2. Chapter 2

"When Gibbs said it was happening at the zoo, did you think he literally meant the zoo?" McGee asked, watching through the window of the truck as he and Tony drove onto the grounds of the Smithsonian National Zoological Park.

"Considering he told us to meet him in Lot B at the National Zoo, I'd have to say…duuuuuh." Tony stopped the truck at a police roadblock and waited to be waved through the sea of news vans. "Jeeze. You'd never see this many people freaking out if this happened in the Komodo dragon exhibit."

"Komodo dragon?"

"Yeah. Big lizard, looks at you like he'd eat you if there weren't a thick sheet of glass between you and him? Sticks out his tongue and kind of opens and closes his mouth like he's licking his chops. Big scary lizard."

"Okay. If you say so."

Tony rolled down the window and the voice of a reporter speaking into a microphone in front of a CBS news van carried into the truck, "…not known. A representative of the Zoo spoke to the press about thirty minutes ago and Zoo officials want to assure the American public that while Tai Shan and his mother Mei Xiang were in the outdoor exhibit at the time, neither was harmed and they are now resting in their indoor habitat while authorities…" Her voice faded as Tony drove forward.

He stopped for a uniformed officer. "I'll need IDs from both of you, please. Nothing personal, just that the damn reporters have been trying to sneak in all day." He accepted the men's badges. "I'll check you in with my Captain."

Tony nodded and drummed his fingers on the doorframe as the officer walked away. Turning to McGee, he said, "What's the big deal about pandas, anyway? I've seen that little one at least five times and I just don't get why everyone is so excited. It's like a little dog that runs around. I could go to the park and watch dogs doing the same thing if that's what I wanted to do instead of fighting traffic and crowds of school kids to come here and see the bear."

"That's actually a common misconception," McGee said, rolling down his own window. The weather was unseasonably warm in spite of the cold start winter had gotten off to. "Pandas are more closely related to raccoons than bears."

"_Actually_, genetic testing has confirmed that the giant panda is, in fact, a bear and should be classified as such. It's the red panda they aren't quite sure how to classify. I think it looks like a maroon weasel with a weird little dog face, but what do I know?" Tony refused to meet McGee's eye as the officer returned with their IDs.

"Just follow this road around the bend. You'll want the third left for the closest parking lot."

"Lot B, right? Thanks." Tony let his elbow hang out the window as he drove slowly through the wooded park.

McGee was still confused about Tony's sudden zoological expertise. "You said you've seen the baby panda five times?"

His reply was quick and defensive. "Look, women like to come to the zoo and coo over how cute and fuzzy and whatever the animals are. Sue me if I learned something panda-related as an indirect consequence of getting laid."

It may have been McGee's imagination, but he was almost sure that Tony was uncomfortable talking about his past conquests. He decided to push. "Did you try that on Ziva?"

"No," Tony answered sharply. The truck lurched as he went over the curb maneuvering it into the parking lot. He didn't get out immediately, but allowed his hands to rest on the steering wheel. "Tim, can you do one thing for me?"

McGee sighed with disgust. "I'm not carrying all the gear while you go find the bathroom."

"No…but that's a good idea." Tony's smile faded and he became serious. "Could you not talk about Ziva like she's just another in a long line of women? Not just because we all have to work together, but…well, you get what I'm trying to say here, right?" He gave McGee a look like he was begging not to have to spell it out.

McGee was almost tempted to make him. It had been clear for a while that Tony didn't look at Ziva as just another girl, but McGee still liked watching him squirm when trying to adjust to the language of the long-term. Seeing Tony struggle with a romantic relationship was a novelty and McGee wanted to enjoy it while it lasted. The pleading expression on his colleague's face, however, mitigated McGee's response. "I won't say anything to screw things up for you guys."

"Don't overestimate your power, Probie," Tony scoffed, opening the rear doors of the truck. "We'd better grab the gear and head up there before Gibbs releases the hounds."

"The sign says no pets."

"Figure of speech, McGee. Doesn't that writing pipe give you any insight at all?"

McGee chose to ignore the barb and shouldered his share of the gear. As they walked up the paved path, he gave Tony a sidelong glance. "With the whole zoo date thing, do girls really…"

"Oh yeah." Tony grinned at him. "The baby panda and tiger cubs are gold. Just avoid the bird house. They've got these butt ugly mood-killing bald things that look like vultures on steroids…"

* * *

Gibbs stood on the ground observation level, watching his team below him in the outdoor panda habitat. Tony took pictures as Ducky and Palmer assessed the body of Lieutenant Lawrence Miller, which had been dragged out of the shallow pool onto dry ground. McGee was somewhere in the pavilion, collecting video. Gibbs himself had spent a half hour talking to multiple witnesses that all told the same story – Miller and an unidentified man struggling, the man shooting Miller and pushing him over the railing. Several were working with sketch artists to come up with a composite of the killer to pass on to the media.

A nervous woman stood next to Gibbs, tapping her foot rapidly on the concrete. Head Panda Keeper Stephanie Smith had an uncanny ability to produce a new frown every time one of the agents working in the exhibit moved. "Agent Gibbs, how much longer are your people going to be? The pandas have already had their schedules altered by the move indoors."

"You think our dead lieutenant hasn't had his schedule altered?" he asked tersely. He'd also spoken to Miller's wife and two young sons. Mrs. Miller had been distraught; visiting the Zoo had been her idea and she blamed herself for her husband's death. Gibbs had offered what little comfort he could by promising to catch the man who'd killed her husband. The older of the two boys, Nicky, who couldn't have been more than six, had held out his right hand to shake and Gibbs had repeated the promise. The boy had nodded solemnly and held on tightly to the stuffed panda his mother said his father had bought him in the nearby gift shop just before they'd walked into the exhibit.

Smith hadn't been there to witness that scene and it showed. "I know you must think me cold, Agent Gibbs, but my main concern is the welfare of the animals. We are going to have to clean and disinfect this entire area after you and your people leave. It could be a few days before the pandas can use this section of their outdoor habitat again."

"They're not gonna die from being in their cages for a few days."

"Agent Gibbs!" Smith held a hand over her heart. "We _do not_ keep _any_ of the animals in cages. They have climate controlled indoor environments designed to accommodate their needs."

"So, really nice cages?" He ignored her outraged response as he saw Ducky waving from the ground below. "Excuse me." He climbed down the ladder set up against the inner wall of the enclosure.

Ducky eyed him as he squatted next to the body. "You know, Jethro, there is a door at the rear of the paddock."

"Ladder's faster. What've you got, Duck?"

"Yes, well, our lieutenant appears to have been shot in the chest at very close range. There is some burning around the entry wound, so the muzzle would have to have been very close, if not pressed against his body. He also has some injuries that could be explained by his fall, but," he pointed up at the railing where Smith continued to cast disapproving looks at the team, "given the height of the railing, I doubt the mere impact of the bullet would have driven him over."

"Witnesses said he fought with the guy who shot him and then got pushed."

"That seems most likely. There's also this," Ducky said, holding up Miller's hand. "The fingernail on the middle finger is nearly torn off, perhaps in the struggle with his attacker."

"Think you can get some of his DNA from it?"

"It's possible, but I wouldn't depend on it. The water may have washed away some of our physical evidence. We'll see what Abby can do with it."

"Thanks, Duck." Gibbs turned to look at the height of the drop, but he was distracted by Jimmy Palmer, soaked to the waist and doing some kind of odd dance on a rock by the pool. "What the heck are you doin', Palmer?"

"Oh, I, um, stepped in something while I was fishing the lieutenant out of the water and I'm trying to scrape it off my shoe."

Tony slapped him on the back as he walked past. "Think of it this way, Palmer – you've got a special memory of little Tai Shan that most visitors could only dream of getting. Area up top and around the pool are clean, boss. Couldn't find a casing and even though there are a ton of fingerprints on the railing, most of them are too smudged to get a good lift. Thousands of people have their grubby hands on that rail every day, so I doubt we're gonna get any hits that have to do with this."

Gibbs nodded his head. They were most likely going to have to hope for a break from the tape. He pointed Tony toward the pool. "Check the water next."

Smith shouted from the platform, "You won't find anything in the pool. All the water is fine-filtered and recirculated every hour for the sanitary consideration of the pandas. Solids are cleaned out at the end of every day."

"Then it's a good thing we're only concerned about today. DiNozzo!"

Tony had already started to walk away, but he turned with an expression of mixed guilt and disappointment. "Yeah, boss?"

"Get in there and sweep the bottom."

"Oh, well she said…so I thought…right." He looked dubiously at the greenish pool. "What exactly am I looking for?"

"Anything that doesn't belong down there. Miller might have lost stuff from his pockets while he was in the water. How long have you been on this job, DiNozzo? Do I have to spell it out for you?"

"Do _I_ have to? I mean, couldn't we wait for McGee to come back?"

"Do you want tomorrow morning off? I don't think Ziva's gonna be very happy if she has to take a cab from the airport because you wouldn't do your job today."

"Good point, boss. I'll, uh, I'll just…" He made a face as he stepped into the water. "Chilly."

Palmer grinned from his spot at the end of the gurney he and Ducky had just loaded the body onto. "Watch out for the filter, Tony. If you trip over it you could end up…"

Gibbs turned when he heard the splash, ignoring the laughter from the autopsy team and the shouts from above. Tony pushed his head out of the water and looked completely revolted as he spit out a mouthful. "Blech. That was almost as bad as the harbor water in Sanremo." He stirred up the water by moving his arms around. "But at least it isn't a total loss." A silver digital camera appeared from the murky water.

Smith smirked. "Would you like me to have someone drain the pool?"

"And expose the pandas' illegal electronics operation?" Tony asked, holding up a cellular phone. "I'm thinking that either Miller had the least functional pockets ever or Tai Shan got a Best Buy gift card for Christmas. Also…oh crap." He removed his own cell phone from his jacket pocket and tossed it to Gibbs. "At least I'll have a good excuse for missing calls now."

Gibbs shook his head and looked up at Smith, still grinning smugly. "Yeah, have someone drain the pool, Miss Smith."

* * *

PSA: While hideously ugly on a nightmare-inducing level, the Marabou stork is an essential carrion bird of the African savannah. The Komodo dragon, on the other hand, is just a big-ass scary lizard (and don't try to sway me with reports of how they become tame in captivity and learn to recognize their keepers). Be glad they're exclusive to Indonesia. 


	3. Chapter 3

Abby watched Lt. Miller being shot and pushed into the panda enclosure from a fifth angle. "When they said full-coverage, they weren't kidding, Timmy."

"You should see the monitoring station they have. There's about fifty video screens so the person at the console can watch every part of the habitat at once, which seems a little stupid when you think about it. There are only three pandas. Why not just have motion sensors on the cameras and have the feed change cameras as the pandas move around?"

"Too bad we don't have that here." Abby clicked on another thumbnail screen to try and get a better shot of Miller's murderer. "Jimmy and Michelle have been on their best behavior since they got caught, but still…I bet we'd get some crazy footage."

"Especially with Tony and Ziva in the building."

"You're a little obsessed with them, McGee. I'm not sure it's all that healthy. Ziva isn't even _here_ right now."

"But she's coming back tomorrow. Tony's got the morning off to pick her up at the airport and she'll be back to work on Thursday."

"That's good." As much as McGee liked discussing the personal lives of his closest co-workers, Abby was getting bored with it. Tony and Ziva were sleeping together. She got it. Unless they brought it into the building, she was no longer that interested. Her curiosity would be piqued again once they started fighting, but that was probably going to take some time, given that Ziva was on her second near-death experience in less than a year. She paused the video and enhanced the area around the killer's face. "I wanna ask her where she got that cool assault rifle."

McGee's eyes got wide as he looked from the monitor to Abby's face. "Assault rifle?"

"Didn't I tell you about the secret gun closet we found when we cleared out her apartment? If I ever decide to start my own paramilitary faction because you guys have gone off on some secret mission and left me with vile substitutes, I'm going straight to Ziva's."

"Should I come back later?"

Abby turned to the door. "Hey, Cynthia. Don't worry. I won't need to implement my evil plot unless Fake Director Quincy and Agent Wannabe Gibbs come back."

Cynthia made a face and leaned on the table. "Ugh, Quincy was horrible. I used to think Agent DiNozzo was the worst it could get around here in terms of sexual harassment, but at least with him you always know he's kidding. It was getting to the point where I was scared to be in the same room with Quincy. Well, maybe not _scared_, but nervous anyway. Oh, and I don't know if Director Shepard told you, but all the formal reprimands you got while she was gone have been taken out of your record."

"Really?"

"I shredded them myself."

Abby rushed to hug Cynthia. "Thank you! You didn't have to come all the way down here to tell me that, but thank you!"

"I actually came to ask how the case is going. The Director is getting a lot of pressure from all sides to resolve this quickly."

"She should probably ask Gibbs," McGee said uneasily. "He doesn't like it when we, um, go above him."

"That's why she sent me instead of coming down herself," Cynthia replied, winking. "I'll tell her you're on the verge of a breakthrough and you'll let her know the instant you have it."

McGee was typing rapidly. "You can tell her we just sent out a BOLO with a picture of the guy who shot our lieutenant."

"We did?" Abby asked, spinning to look at the computer screen.

"Yeah, I used that enhanced still you made a few minutes ago."

"Of course you did. Want a copy to show off to the Director, Cynthia?"

"Just email it to me."

"But hard copies are so much more impressive! McGee! Print the lady a copy of the BOLO."

"Thanks." Cynthia picked up a plastic bag and examined its contents, a leaf-eater biscuit with a few drops of blood on it that had been collected at the scene. "So Officer David is coming back this week?"

"Yup. The band is getting back together."

"That's good. That things will be all the way back to normal, I mean." She accepted the paper McGee handed her and walked to the door before turning for one last question. "You don't really have a band, do you?"

"Well, _I_ don't. I can't speak for the mission impossible team up in the squad room. Next time there's a super secret mission, it's gonna be me, Ducky and you, Cynthia."

"Okaaaay. You two have a pleasant day."

McGee began to protest even before Cynthia was gone, "Abby, I've told you it's classified and we're not allowed to talk about what happened while we were away."

She started pacing. "Well it had to involve Moussad, because Ziva was working for them and you guys all hooked up somewhere. You ended up in Israel, and you were both in the same hospital at the same time, so you both got shot on the same mission."

"Abby, stop."

"Aha! You wouldn't be trying to silence me unless I was getting close. So it was some kind of joint mission in France, because that's where you started investigating that dead petty officer, and Israel, because that's where you were hospitalized. Did it involve terrorists? If you don't answer, I'll know it involved terrorists." She waited for him to say something, but he remained focused on the computer. "Right. Terrorists. Did you foil some kind of bombing?"

"We didn't do anything, Abby." She turned slowly to face Gibbs. "And you need to stop torturing McGee for information he's not allowed to give you. What've you got from the tapes?"

She hunched her shoulders slightly and allowed McGee to answer the question. "We got a clear view of the shooter's face, which we sent out on the BOLO a few minutes ago. There was nothing but pictures of animals and the family on the digital camera and the computer's still tracing all the calls made on the cell phone in the past few days."

"Good, let me know when you have something."

He'd taken a few rapid strides toward the door when Abby said, "We may have something!" She pointed him to footage playing on the plasma.

He squinted at the screen. "All I see is pandas running around."

"Cute, huh? They're like…penguins."

McGee's upper lip disappeared as he pondered the simile. "Because they're black and white?"

"No, because they're, like, too cute to be real. And besides, lots of penguins have other colors on them, like yellows and reds. Anyway, did you see _March of the Penguins_?"

"This is probably a conversation you should have with Tony."

"Don't worry, I will. Think of this as rehearsal."

"You need to rehearse your conversations with Tony?"

"Stop trying to get me off the subject, McGee! So, penguin movie. There's about a whole twenty minutes there when I was convinced all the penguin chicks were really just robotic stuffed animals some weird filmmaker put in with the real adult penguins. God, penguins with the way they walk and slide on their bellies and hatch all cute and fuzzy…"

"You're not talking about the nuns again, are you Abby?" Tony walked into the lab, buttoning his shirt.

Gibbs paused just before his hand came in contact with Tony's head. "Nuns?"

"Long story, boss. What's happening on PandaCam?" This time Tony did get slapped. "What? That's what the Zoo calls the whole panda voyeurism experience."

"Yeah, no one's explained to me why we're watching pandas frolic around."

Abby's fingers paused over the keyboard. "Frolic, Gibbs?"

"What?"

"It's just not a word I expected to hear from you, that's all. Anyway, we're not actually watching the pandas, we're watching the crowd. The shooter is visible around the railings of the panda exhibit all morning. There." She fast-forwarded the video. "There…and again there. He's there for almost two hours prior to Lt. Miller and his family arriving."

"He was waiting for them?" Gibbs continued squinting at the screen, following the shooter's progress.

"Maybe, but how did he know they'd be coming to the panda exhibit?"

"Because _everyone_ goes to see the pandas?" Tony rationalized.

"Okay, answer-man. Explain this one." She pulled up one of the angles of the actual murder. "The bad guy is standing by the railing, like, two or three people over from Lt. Miller. Everybody is watching the baby panda climb the tree, but Miller looks to his left and sees the bad guy's gun. He pushes his wife and kids further away, then moves around behind the gunman. It looks like he tries to talk to the guy, maybe get him to come away from the crowd or something, and the bad guy grabs him. They struggle for a few seconds before anyone notices that something's wrong, because, oh my God, the adorable baby panda everyone came to see is awkwardly climbing a tree that's bending under his weight, isn't that cute…"

"Abs…"

"Right." She rewound the video a few frames. "So as soon as the bad guy notices that people are noticing, he starts trying to aim at Miller with the gun. Once he's got an angle, he fires and pushes Miller over the railing. People start fleeing with the gunshot, and the bad guy just gets lost in the crowd."

"So Miller wasn't the target."

"Doesn't look like it. I have a theory, though."

"I'm waiting, Abby."

"What if he wasn't looking for a person?"

"He just brought a gun to the Zoo and waited in the panda exhibit all morning for the hell of it?"

"No, Gibbs…I mean what if someone put a hit on," she paused for dramatic effect, "the baby panda!"

"Yeah, maybe Tai Shan has a gambling problem and since the loan shark can't get in there to break his legs, he decided to just shoot him," Tony said sarcastically.

"Maybe he was going to try and kneecap him."

"McGee!" Gibbs tone was a stern reprimand and McGee was sufficiently cowed by it.

"Sorry."

"You guys can mock my brilliant insight all you want, but when this turns out to be an elaborate scheme to provoke the Chinese, you will all come crawling back to me. Well, if there's any forensic evidence to be analyzed and we're not all screaming in panic. The pandas are technically property of China, so this could be political. Or a terrorist attack! What could be worse than killing a cute baby animal? Pandacide would not only create diplomatic problems with China, but it would break the collective heart of America." Abby returned the odd looks she was getting from her colleagues. "Y'know, I've been watching the PandaCam footage all afternoon, so forgive me if I seem a little panda-ly inclined. They really are cute. Wanna hear my story about the penguins?"

"Not again, Abs." Gibbs left the lab with Tony and McGee close on his heels.

She went back to the video to try and figure out which exit the shooter had used. "Guess I won't be giving live puppies as Christmas presents next year."


	4. Chapter 4

Tony sat at his desk, typing feverishly. They'd been tracking down leads all afternoon and evening to no avail. Any hopes of getting out at a reasonable time were fast diminishing. Ziva was going to arrive at 8:30AM, giving him only thirteen hours to prepare. He went through his mental checklist again. He'd retrieved her clothes from Gibbs' house and cleaned his whole apartment over the weekend. He'd gone to the supermarket and picked up some of her favorite foods and a can of whipped cream last night after work. The spare key was sitting on the kitchen counter.

There was still too much to do. He hadn't hung up or put away any of her clothes. The sheets needed to be changed and the laundry done. He hadn't even had a chance to buy flowers yet. He looked up from his keyboard. "You think two dozen roses is overkill?"

McGee covered the mouthpiece of his phone. "It's a nice gesture, Tony, but you don't really have to buy me flowers. It might make Ziva jealous."

Tony gave him an irritated grimace. "Just answer the question, Probie."

"I don't know. Maybe you should stick with Honey Dust. I seem to remember her mentioning she liked it a while ago." His attention was abruptly drawn back to the phone. "Yes, I'm still here. Oh. Oh, I see. I'm very sorry for your loss, Ma'am." He hung up the phone gingerly. "Cross another suspect off the list. Howard Harding, the guy the Zoo fired last year? Died of a heart attack three days ago."

"I can't believe Gibbs is taking the attempted panda assassination seriously."

"He's pissed about this one."

"Who knew he had such a soft spot for pandas?" Tony checked his watch. There was no way he was going to find a florist open at this hour, assuming he'd even be able to leave. He was going to be up all night doing laundry, so sleep wasn't a huge priority. He was a little too wired to sleep. Maybe one of the supermarkets would have a florist. He checked his watch again and found that, in spite of the lack of time to prepare, it was still too long before Ziva would be arriving. "Tomorrow is only a day away," he muttered.

"What?" McGee hadn't noticed his concern with the time.

"Nothing." As if he was going to admit that McGee had just caught him quoting _Annie_. "What were you saying?"

"I think that Gibbs is mad about the whole family angle with Lt. Miller."

"Oh, right." There was no time for Gibbs' to take it personally. Ziva was coming home. Tony felt sweat break out on his forehead. He wasn't ready. "So, about the roses…"

"Why are you even asking me? You're supposed to be the office Casanova."

"Exactly. And you're the nice guy. I…look it hurts me to ask you this, but I need to know what the nice guy would do in this situation." He wiped his forehead. Asking McGee's advice hadn't been so bad.

McGee gave him an odd look. "You're picking her up at the airport bringing her flowers. That's pretty much it."

"That can't be all." It felt too easy. McGee had to be holding back. "I've been in plenty of relationships where I've done a lot more. I can manage the big, meaningless romantic stuff, no problem. There've gotta be some small things I've been missing."

"Tony, this may come as a shock to you, but Ziva already knows that you're a jerk."

"Hey!"

"Let me finish. She knows and she doesn't care. You don't have to change. You just have to…well, instead of meaningless romantic gestures, make them mean something. Just do what you always do, except don't make it all a quest for sex."

"Whoa, hold on. No sex? I gotta tell you, Probie, I don't think that's gonna work for either of us. Me and Ziva, not me and you, I mean. You can take a vow of celibacy for all I care."

"Do you want my help or not?"

Tony nodded sheepishly. He wished McGee would just tell him the secret to being the nice guy instead of making him jump through hoops. It was disconcerting enough to be unsure of how to proceed with a woman; the last thing he needed was the indignity of McGee's condescension. "Look, I just need to let her know that this is different, that I'm not going to treat this relationship like…well, that I see a future, not just a present with her."

"Haven't you already told her that?"

"Yeah."

"And she believes it?"

"I guess so."

"Would she be calling all the time and staying with you once she gets back if she didn't? What?"

"Nothing. It's just that I'm expecting some guys on pale horses to come running through the squad room at any moment because you're making a lot of sense." Tony sighed. Love was hard. "So, yes on the flowers?"

McGee shrugged. "If I were looking for a gift for Ziva, I'd probably put together a gift basket of guns and ammunition."

"Ooh, you think I should have grabbed a few of those from Gibbs' house too?"

"I think there are a few handguns and an Uzi mixed in the boxes with the clothes. Abby said she just dumped some of the drawers into boxes. Did you know Ziva keeps a Glock in her underwear drawer?"

Tony frowned. "No, I'm pretty sure that one's a Browning. The Glock was in the kitchen in the spatula drawer. Most of the other handguns hidden around the apartment were some kind of Israeli model. Jerboa? Something like that. There was an Uzi in the sofa, too."

"I can see why you're opting for flowers. What kind of gun do you get for the girl who has everything?"

"9mm, Elf Lord," Gibbs said, coming around the corner. It was oddly satisfying for Tony to see McGee taken down a peg at that moment. "See if anyone on our suspect list owns a 9mm."

"Sorry, boss, we were just talking about…"

"I'm going to assume you two aren't gossiping about a suspect."

"We could be," Tony said defensively. Gibbs' glare prevented him from adding anything about rule number eight. "Right, registered handguns." He turned back to his computer.

"McGee! Any hits on the BOLO?"

"We've got about eight hundred. So far."

"What kind of photo was on that thing?"

McGee tapped a few keys and the grainy image appeared on the plasma. "Well, you saw how he was dressed in the video. The baseball cap and sunglasses don't exactly count as identifying marks. This is a big deal and the media is only intensifying it. The tip line is overloaded with callers."

"Funny how you two have so much time to chat about how well-armed your co-workers are in between running those down."

Tony took the opportunity to present some of his own work on the screen. A police report was displayed. "I had a thought, boss. Maybe we should be looking a little closer at Miller's family. Before she got pregnant with the second kid, they had some problems. When they lived on base in Pensacola, MPs were called to the residence no less than three times in relation to some domestic disputes. As you can see on that report, there was some violence, mostly broken plates and thrown pots."

"Your point, DiNozzo?"

"We don't know for sure that this stopped when they moved up here. Maybe the wife got sick of being pushed around and paid the guy to bump off her husband and make it look like something else."

"Are you kidding?"

"Why didn't Miller's wife mention the little scene where he pushed her and the kids away?"

"She was distraught and trying to cope with two little boys. I'd be more suspicious if she'd given me a clear and concise account of the incident."

"Just another angle, boss."

"You think we need more angles right now?"

"I take it Jenny's not too pleased we haven't gotten anywhere yet?"

"As a matter of fact…" Gibbs trailed off and sat behind his desk. Tony and McGee followed suit, resuming their research. Two frustrating hours later, Gibbs slammed his hand on his keyboard. "DiNozzo, McGee, you two get out of here. Start fresh tomorrow."

Both men jumped up, but McGee was the one to make sure they'd heard correctly. "You sure, boss?"

Tony reached to swat his colleague's arm and hissed, "McGee!"

"Yeah, both of you go home and get some rest." Gibbs watched them silently as they put on their coats and collected their gear. Tony checked his watch. Finding flowers was going to be a lost cause at this point. He could still try. Just as he was about to escape from the squad room, Gibbs shouted, "DiNozzo!"

He returned reluctantly, leaning over the partition rather than reentering the bullpen. "Yeah, boss?"

"When are you due in tomorrow?"

"Not until the afternoon."

"I want you here ASAP."

Tony's eyes were drawn to the dark, empty workspace between Gibbs' desk and the partition. "Well, Ziva's plane flies into JFK early, so she'll hit customs there. Then she's taking one of those business flights back to DC."

"What time?"

Tony checked his watch. "It's just after eleven."

"What time does Ziva arrive?"

"Oh, she lands at Reagan at, uh, ten. So I'll pick her up…at ten…and bring her home, then come in. If you think you'll need me to, I mean."

"DiNozzo…" Gibbs growled.

"Right, as soon as she's home, I'm out the door." An hour and a half would have to be enough. Tony sighed as the elevator doors closed. There had to be some kind of weird karmic thing at work, punishing him for all the times he'd used the Zoo date as a seduction tool. Somehow, this was all the fault of the baby panda. "Stupid bear."


	5. Chapter 5

Ziva yawned and stretched her arms over her head as the plane taxied toward the terminal at Reagan. She'd had to change planes in New York, but it had been the shortest flight she'd been able to get from Tel Aviv to Washington. She'd slept most of the way on the first leg of the trip. She wouldn't normally have been comfortable enough to sleep while flying, but she'd known the man sitting next to her was Moussad, traveling as a member of the security team. She remembered his face from several training missions and she was certain he'd recognized her. They hadn't spoken beyond some pleasantries about the weather and brief confirmations that they were both armed.

Her neighbor's constant staring and questions about the origin of her accent had marred the second and considerably shorter leg of her journey. The cargo pants and desert boots might not have been the best fashion choice, but she had to be in the air for the better part of a day and wanted to be comfortable. Maybe it was the head wrap that made him cross the line from merely uncomfortable to suspicious, although she'd made sure her necklace was clearly visible. American businessmen could be so bigoted.

She waited for him to deplane before retrieving her larger carry-on from the overhead compartment and working her way into the line of people inching toward the main hatch. In spite of all her experience in stressful situations, she felt her chest start to tighten as she stepped out of the plane with a nod to the overly perky flight crew. She wouldn't be the only person with no one meeting her at the gate. Everyone had to put off their reunions until they passed security now. It would only take her five minutes to walk through the terminal. What was five more minutes?

As she rounded the corner, a smile broke over her features. She could see Tony standing at the end of the jetway with a large bouquet of red roses, peeking over the shoulder of the airline worker stationed there. He grabbed her hand and pulled her aside as soon as he could reach her. The kiss almost made her forget she was in a crowded airport. He was the one who eventually ended it. "I missed you."

She pressed against his body as her arms encircled his neck. "It's only been a few weeks."

"Oh, this from the woman who tried to solicit phone sex from me just yesterday." She could feel him sliding the wrap off her head as he kissed her again. She pulled back when he started playing with her hair elastic. He held out the flowers with her head wrap. "For you."

"Thank you." She let her eyes move over his body in lieu of more intimate contact. He was wearing jeans and a pea coat over a familiar shirt. She ran a finger down the length of one of the green stripes on the dark blue material. "So Abby's advice on cleaning it worked?"

"No. I, uh, bought a new one, so it's still technically my favorite shirt." He gasped slightly as her free hand slid under his coat, down his back and further. "Aren't we eager."

She bobbed her eyebrows twice. "I can't help myself. You look good." At the sound of a person clearing his throat, she abruptly pulled her hand out of his coat as she realized they were commanding an audience in the densely packed waiting area. There was at least one drawback to being the only person met at the gate. She blinked before she looked him over again. "Where's my smoothie?"

His eyes shifted to a potted plant on her right. "They wouldn't let me bring it through the security checkpoint."

Ziva laughed and leaned down to pick up the small backpack that was her constant travel companion. She'd dropped it carelessly while occupied with Tony's greeting. She pulled a strap over one shoulder, stuffing her head wrap into it and taking a few steps toward the main concourse. "How did you get through security without a boarding pass?"

He grinned and grabbed the handle of her carry-on bag, following her toward baggage claim. "I abused my position as a federal agent, of course. Are you complaining?"

"No. I'm just wondering why a federal agent wouldn't be allowed to bring a smoothie through security. You forgot it, didn't you?"

"Maybe. But I remembered flowers. And…" he reached into his pocket, "this."

She accepted the NCIS badge from him, taking a moment to inspect it as she walked. It was exactly as she remembered. She had expected it to be different. So many other things had changed. She didn't look at Tony, instead running her fingers over the raised metal of her badge before clipping it to her belt. "I don't suppose you brought my SIG?"

"Nope. Jenny's holding on to that as some kind of insurance policy to make sure you see her first when you get in tomorrow."

"If she were smart she'd have kept the badge."

"Yeah, plan on a long conversation about your little home armory with Abby. She hasn't shut up about…y'know, I'm thinking this probably isn't the best topic of conversation for an airport." He gave her a sidelong glance that lingered on her midsection. "You're not packing now, are you?"

"No, I had to check my Jericho in my other suitcase when I got to New York."

He looked puzzled for a moment. "Huh. I was sure you were going to confuse that with what you did with your suitcases before you got on the plane. Figures you'd know a phrase involving guns."

She held the roses to her face and inhaled. "I guess you really didn't read my letter."

"Nope." The envelope he unexpectedly pulled from his pocket looked worn, much older than its two months. "Will you ever let me read it?"

Their eyes met as they paused to read the overhead directional sign. "I hope not."

He grabbed her hand, but didn't look at her as they proceeded to the escalators. "Let's not talk about that. Instead you can tell me why you didn't check your, uh, Jerboa until you got to the US."

"Jericho," she corrected. "El Al will let me carry on anything I want. Well, knives and guns anyway, which is what I'd want. They trust Moussad. It's the same reason the security guards let you through with your weapon."

"Right." They found the luggage carousel with her flight number and waited for it to spring to life.

She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. "I missed you, too." She felt his lips on the top of her head, but they didn't say anything. The belt eventually started moving. Her suitcase was the second one to pass. "That one's mine."

He prevented her from picking it up. "I got it." He extended the handle and placed her carry-on on top of it. "Lucky for you, you've got your very own skycap."

"Tony, I'm better. I don't need you to…"

"I know." He suddenly pulled her into another embrace, kissing her deeply. As it ended, he winked. "I plan to test that shoulder in other ways. Lung strength and endurance, too."

"I look forward to it." She shivered in her light jacket as the automatic doors parted. Had it been this cold when she'd last been in DC? She crossed her arms tightly as he led the way to his car.

He unlocked the passenger side door first. "Brought you a coat." He watched, smiling, as she tossed her backpack in the foot well and thankfully pulled on her long gray coat. "That one's my favorite."

"At least your favorite is also a warm one," she replied, rapidly buttoning it. Unzipping her large suitcase, she removed her Jericho in its holster and attached it just behind her badge. "That's better."

"Can't stand to be unarmed?"

She pushed past him and jumped into the passenger seat. "Throw the bags in the trunk and let's go," she said before slamming the door. He was in the driver's seat in what seemed like only seconds later. "Are we in a rush?"

"I told Gibbs your flight wasn't due until ten, so we've got an extra hour and a half to, uh, say hello, but I also told him I'd be in as soon as I dropped you off at home so if you want to…"

"Yes, go." The heat was slow coming on in the old Mustang. She rubbed her left hand up and down his thigh. "You're a federal agent. Go faster."

"I'm doing seventy."

She allowed her hand to drift higher and felt the car pick up speed. "That's better."

He was prevented from answering by the ringing of his phone. "Hey, boss, I…oh…oh…yeah, I'll just drop her off…oh, right…yeah…I'll let you know how it goes." He snapped his phone shut. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the wheel. "Apparently Gibbs took it upon himself to confirm your flight. Even though you don't technically start back 'til tomorrow, he wants us to go to the Zoo to talk to the panda keeper."

She could find only one logical explanation. "Has he started drinking in the morning?"

"Maybe I should fill you in on this case…"


	6. Chapter 6

Tony had slowed to the posted speed limit after his call from Gibbs. He didn't really need to rush now. There was nothing exciting to look forward to at the Zoo. He did his best to focus on what Ziva was saying instead of imagining what she wouldn't be screaming for hours yet. "So let me get this straight – a Navy lieutenant was murdered in the panda habitat, but he wasn't the intended victim. For some reason, we've decided the panda cub was the real target and now we're going to talk to his keeper to see why she has a restraining order against her ex-husband, who is also the registered owner of a Beretta 92."

"9mm, just like the weapon that killed Lt. Miller. Think that would be enough to kill little Tai Shan? A 9mm round?" In his effort to mask his disappointment, his tone had taken on an oddly cheery quality. He'd decided Gibbs was punishing him for trying to label Miller's wife as a suspect.

Ziva pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and he nearly sideswiped another car because he was once again watching her instead of the road. "Who is Tai Shan? I thought the lieutenant was Miller and the keeper was Smith."

"The baby panda. It means 'freakishly adorable' or something like that in Chinese." She gave him a perplexed look. He continued, "I'm kidding. I think it really means 'peaceful mountain.' What?"

"You not only know the panda cub's name, but you know the English translation?"

"I think McGee and I have already had this conversation. Why don't we chalk it up to my brilliant investigative skills? Anyway, you think the 9mm round would be enough?"

"No idea. I've never shot a panda. I shot a brown bear once, but I had a rifle. I didn't want to, but when it's you or the bear…"

"Hold on, you shot a bear? Like a big, furry thing with sharp claws and big teeth?" He swore under his breath as someone cut him off turning onto Connecticut Avenue. He came dangerously close to hitting a man on a bike before being mercifully halted by a red light. "That kind of bear?"

"You could have made that light. And yes. A bear. I don't think he was that big as bears go – maybe 200kg."

"Just wanted to make sure we weren't having one of our little communication breakdowns." He accelerated off the line, glad that society had evolved somewhat from the hunter/gatherer days. Ziva would probably be scantily clad in a leopard pelt and dragging him back to the cave by his hair right about now. He swallowed hard. That was one of the more emasculating fantasies that had ever popped into his head. What had made him think of _that_? Oh, right, his international secret agent girlfriend was nonchalantly telling him she'd shot a bear. "Is 200 kilos a lot?"

"About 450 lbs. or so. My father was so proud. He had the skin made into a rug for his study."

Tony nearly missed the turn for the zoo. "You killed _that_ bear?" He'd seen the rug while staying at her father's house in Tel Aviv during and after her time in the hospital. The dead glass eyes staring up at him from the floor, just above a mouth full of dangerous teeth, had prevented him from accepting more than one of Abraham's invitations into the study for a drink and a chat. "Looked like, uh, a hell of a bear."

She seemed alarmed. "My father let you into his study?"

"Is that weird?" He wasn't convinced this would be a better topic of conversation than the bear.

"No. No. Not at all."

"Ziva…"

"Really, I'm glad you and he get along so well. I just…"

He pulled into the parking lot he had used the previous day, noting that it was now crowded with cars. The shooting hadn't had a negative effect on Zoo patronage. He squeezed into a narrow space and said a silent prayer that the people parked in the spots next to him wouldn't let their children yank the doors of their own cars open. His hand proceeded from the parking brake to the back of Ziva's neck. "Hey. If it makes you feel better, he didn't recite a catalog of your most embarrassing moments."

"Tony, it's not that." Her gaze drifted everywhere but his face. "You…I feel like he spent more time talking with you in two months than he has with me in the past five years. I probably would have eventually told you about my mother…and Tali's necklace…and whatever else he told you about. Those were all things you should have heard from me and just because I hadn't told you yet doesn't mean I wasn't planning to someday br…" He interrupted her with a kiss when she pursed her lips to say 'bring.' She let out a shaky breath as she withdrew toward the door. "Don't do that. It's distracting."

"Sorry. I couldn't think of any other way of stopping you from talking yourself into thinking I don't trust you. If you really want to know, Abraham and I talked mostly about me. He was only interested in making sure that I love you, so we got along swimmingly. Well, right up until he walked in on us."

"Tony, he didn't have a problem ordering me to sleep with Dmitri," she didn't see him flinch at the man's name, "so I don't know why you think he has a problem with us having sex. He even sent you a present."

"Really?" If it came in an envelope, he was going to let Abby open it under one of her fume hoods.

"It's in my suitcase. You can have it when we get back to your place, assuming you're a good boy." She gave him a wicked grin and got out of the car, slithering through the small gap of the door while being careful not to scratch it against the neighboring car. She waited for him near the trunk with her hands in her pockets. "Which way?"

"Up the hill and left at the giraffe." He walked beside her, burying his own hands in his pockets.

When they turned the corner, they found a crowd lingering as a camera crew filmed a segment. A reporter wore a winter coat with her affiliate's logo on it and spoke into her microphone with exaggerated concern, "Everyone passing by the FujiFilm Giant Panda Habitat has received the same response today from Zoo officials – sorry, but the public is not welcome today. With me now is Laura Garcia, who traveled with her family from Florida to see Tai Shan. Mrs. Garcia, how does it feel to…"

Tony reached back and took Ziva's hand as they made their way through the knot of people. She tugged it from his grip before they got to several police officers and Zoo security guards loitering around the entrance of the panda enclosure, gently ushering visitors away. When they presented their IDs, the reporter's attention was drawn to them. She rushed up the walk, beckoning her cameraman after her. "Sir, Ma'am! Are you the investigators on this case? Do you have any new information?"

Tony turned and gave the camera his best grin. "NCIS has no comment at this time."

* * *

McGee shook his head as he watched the footage playing on ZNN. Tricia Gibson was interviewing some woman who was nearly in tears over the closure of the panda exhibit. It was pretty poor planning to drive all the way from Florida if the only thing on the itinerary was a trip to… "Boss!"

"He's out getting me a Caf-Pow, McGee."

"Abby, look! Tony and Ziva are on TV."

He turned up the volume in time to hear Tony say, "NCIS has no comment at this time."

"Aw, Tony looks good on TV," Abby said twirling her hair around her finger. She suddenly pointed at the screen. "Did you see that?"

"What?" McGee was distracted by the fact that, in spite of Tony's canned 'no comment,' Gibson was continuing to shout more and more inane questions at his back as he disappeared into the exhibit. McGee caught something about 'rumors of white supremacist groups against the bi-colored panda,' but Abby's groping hands suddenly commanded all his attention. "Can I help you with something?"

"Where's the remote? I want to rewind that."

"It's live TV."

"Are you telling me NCIS couldn't spring for DVRs?" Her face fell as he shook his head. "Spork."

"Spork?"

"Yeah. Damn, darn, drat, rats and shoot were all on the 'words not allowed in the workplace' list, along with the usual suspects immortalized by George Carlin in that skit that really pissed off the Supreme Court for some reason back in the '70s…"

He interrupted, "List of banned words?"

"I told you it sucked to work here while you were off gallivanting around France and Israel and getting shot. Not that I'd rather have been shot than wear corporate casual, though now that I think about it…anyway, I started saying 'spork' to replace any expletive, even the ones that aren't really expletives, and I haven't dropped the habit yet. So why don't we have DVRs?"

"I, um, have no idea. Why do we need one?"

"Because I think Ziva goosed Tony on the way into Pandaville and I want to be sure before I start threatening blackmail."

"Blackmail is a felony, Abs." McGee jumped at Gibbs' sudden appearance.

Abby simply smiled and accepted her Caf-Pow. "And yet Indecent Exposure is a mere misdemeanor."

"You two have time to just sit around and watch television?"

ZNN had already moved on to a story about the war in Iraq. "Oh, well, they were showing the Zoo a second ago and Tony and Ziva were on, so we know they got to the Zoo all right, I guess."

"Some reason you think they wouldn't have, McGee?"

His mind presented several possibilities, none of which he wanted to say out loud. There was a reason Tony had misrepresented when Ziva was arriving, and McGee doubted it involved a leisurely pancake breakfast. Syrup or strawberries, maybe…he cringed at the thought. It was bad enough he'd been worried about catching them on his desk or something, but when food got involved, it was just too much. He finally noticed that both Gibbs and Abby were looking at him expectantly. "Um, no reason. Just saying."

"Get back to work. You can tell DiNozzo about his fifteen seconds of fame when they get back." He turned to Abby, who had raised her hand. "Yes?"

"Oh, it's just that I thought Ziva wasn't supposed to be back 'til tomorrow, but I already have a little 'welcome back and sorry we couldn't visit you in the hospital but it's a long flight to Tel Aviv' cake in the fridge downstairs. It doesn't actually say all that since it is a small cake, but we could still have it today if she's back today."

"We'll see."

"Right. Around two in the lab then. Do you think she'll start shooting if we all jump out and yell 'surprise'?"

McGee snapped his fingers to get the pair's attention. "Um, guys?" He pointed to the television.

"…some breaking news from the National Zoo. We take you there live." Silence reigned in the bullpen as Gibbs, McGee and Abby watched.

After about a minute, Gibbs seemed to snap out of his trance. "McGee!"

"Already got my gear, boss." He tried to say goodbye to Abby, but she was transfixed by the scene playing out on the screen. He hurried to follow Gibbs into the elevator. "Should we call the Director and tell her about…right. She's got a TV in her office, too."


	7. Chapter 7

Ziva rolled her eyes as Tony walked toward her, his smile for the camera still plastered on his face. He winked. "Don't get that attitude with me. You never know, but those few seconds on camera might catch the attention of some big Hollywood types and they'll swoop right in and steal me out from under you."

"I highly doubt that. I _do_ keep a gun under my pillow."

"Good to know we're on the same page with that one." She made him jump as she pinched his butt. "Whoa. Trying to grab it while you still can, I see."

"No, I'm just wondering how your little hairy…awww," she finished as they came around the corner into the outdoor panda viewing area. Two pandas of different sizes were sitting upright, eating bamboo clasped between their front paws in the enclosure not surrounded by crime scene tape. She approached the railing and leaned against it to observe them for a moment. They really were cute. Utterly useless, but cute.

"Having a Kodak moment?" Tony whispered in her ear as he leaned over her shoulder. "Not many people get a private viewing of the pandas, you know. Some women might consider this romantic."

"I'd be more impressed if it weren't because someone died here yesterday." She stared him down from a distance of three inches before she broke eye contact and walked toward the empty enclosure. Another few seconds of staring into his eyes and inhaling his cologne at that proximity and she would have forgotten more than where they were. "Anyway, we're working."

"A fact that I've been regretting since I answered that phone call." Rather than looking over the crime scene and trying to envision the details he'd described in the car, she watched him saunter over, his jeans clinging in all the right places. Mischief glinted in his eyes. "We should have just gone home and damn the consequences."

While she agreed with him in principle, she couldn't help pointing out the problem with the suggestion. "Because Gibbs was already in such a good mood after you lied to him about when I'd be getting in…"

"I didn't lie, I merely compensated for the fact that he changed the time I had to be at the office. I can think of about a hundred things I'd rather be doing right now and none of them involve pandas or you wearing any clothing." He whispered in her ear, "And at least two involve whipped cream."

She took a step away from him to calm her temptation. "Right, because I'm so excited to be at the Zoo after flying for sixteen hours. Remember, I wasn't expecting to have to come to work at all today. Can we just do whatever we have to do here and get it over with?"

"Yeah, why don't we go find keeper Smith?" He held the door for her as they entered the pavilion.

A young man in a jacket with the Zoo's logo embroidered on it walked out of the glassed-in security booth as soon as he saw them approach. "I'm sorry, but the exhibit is closed today. I'm not sure how you got through the police, but I'll have to ask you to…" he trailed off as Tony presented his ID. "NCIS?"

"Yeah, we're the Navy cops. That's our crime scene out there and we'd like to speak with Stephanie Smith."

He glanced nervously through the glass. Ziva could see a woman gesticulating emphatically in a rear office. "Um, she's on the phone with Wolong right now. Is it okay if you wait here for a few minutes?"

"Sure." Tony gave the man a fake smile that faded as he disappeared into the security booth. He sagged slightly, letting his head fall on her shoulder. "Because waiting is my ideal activity right now."

Ziva considered suggesting they find a broom closet, but from the way Tony had been looking at her since he'd found out they would be spending the day in ways he hadn't planned, he was far too likely to take her up on the offer. Then she'd either have to follow through or back down. The answer she was getting from her body was going to beat the one she was getting from her brain at this point. Better to keep quiet. She stepped forward, breaking contact with him to make repressing her desires a little easier, a tactic she was employing a lot today. She peered through the glass, suddenly realizing that the monitors were not a security station, but an elaborate bank of monitors designed to provide constant surveillance. Her recent train of thought inspired her to say, "Glad I'm not a panda. No privacy."

His hand started on her shoulder blade and traced the line of her back through her coat. "So…you're still thinking the same thing I am?"

"Tony…"

"Agent DeSoto?"

Ziva spun and saw a woman watching them from the door of the viewing room. Tony recovered his composure first. "It's DiNozzo, actually. And this is Officer David. Ziva, this is the head panda keeper, Stephanie Smith."

Smith shook Ziva's hand then brusquely pushed past both agents, pulling on her coat on the way through the door. "Do you mind if we talk outside? I need to observe Tai Shan and Mei Xiang for a while to make sure they aren't suffering any psychological effects from the events yesterday. The Chinese are eager to ensure their welfare as well."

Tony pinched Ziva's neck lightly, distracting her from questioning the importance of an animal's emotional state given the circumstances. No wonder Gibbs hadn't been eager to speak with this woman again. Tony asked a question of his own, "Can't you watch from inside?"

Smith smiled as the two eating pandas came into view. "It's not quite the same."

Ziva leaned against the railing next to her. "The smaller one, that is Tai Shan?"

"Yes, that's our little man." She beamed as she enumerated some of his vital statistics.

"And how much does he weigh?" Ziva interrupted. "Around 50kg?"

"Oh, a little less. He was 89lbs. the last time we weighed him, so that would be about 40kg, I guess."

"Yes, it's hard to estimate when they're furry like that." Ziva turned to Tony and pointed to a spot in the other enclosure. "And he was in that tree when Lt. Miller was shot?"

"Yeah."

Smith's face assumed a worried expression. "Excuse me, what are you…"

Ziva ignored her. "I think any small caliber round in the center of mass would probably be enough, though I'd want two or three hits, just to be sure."

"Are you suggesting that someone tried to kill Tai Shan yesterday?"

"Nooooo. We're just speculating about what would have happened if he'd been hit." Tony patted Smith's shoulder, but she continued to look more and more concerned. "What we really want to talk to you about is your ex-husband."

"Robert? I haven't seen him since the divorce was finalized." She spoke quickly and immediately changed the subject. "It doesn't look like their appetites have been affected. They'll be happy to hear that at Wolong."

"Miss Smith…"

"We're going to be sending him there, possibly as early as this coming fall. Gosh, it'll be tough to see him go, but he'll be helping to expand their gene pool, which is good for the species. When you think about it like that…"

Ziva was getting tired of the panda talk. "Why do you have a restraining order against your ex-husband?"

Smith stood a little straighter and tried to intimidate Ziva with a hard glare. "I'm not entirely comfortable discussing that. It's a personal matter. I'm sure you understand."

Ziva rolled her eyes and reached into the inner pocket of Tony's coat, drawing a small sound of protest from him. She quickly scanned through the files on his PDA, pulling up the picture that had gone out on the BOLO. "Is this Robert Smith?"

"Earnshaw," Smith corrected. "Smith is my maiden name."

"Just look at the photo."

Smith jumped visibly, indicating that the answer was 'yes,' but said, "It's, well, it's hard to tell. The photo isn't very good, and he's wearing a hat and sunglasses, so…"

Ziva looked behind her to see that Tony was watching the pandas. She turned back to Smith, who was now almost in tears. Tony was going to get it for this. Maybe the handcuffs? That always made him nervous. She refocused on Smith. "Any idea why Earnshaw would bring a loaded gun to your workplace?"

She looked at the pandas then the ground. "One of the reasons for the divorce was, well, because he thought I was spending too much time here. He just didn't understand how much…"

"Stephanie, what are you telling them?"

Ziva pulled her gun from its holster as she turned and saw the man whose picture she'd been showing to Smith not five minutes earlier. Earnshaw had a gun loosely gripped in his left hand. When he saw the two NCIS agents with their weapons drawn, he took off running.

Tony was ahead of Ziva almost instantly, crashing through a thick row of bamboo lining the borders of the exhibit. She emerged onto the walkway in time to see him jump a fence and disappear. Tony vanished over the fence as well, making a strange noise that sounded like it might have been her name.

Several of the security guards from the entrance of the panda habitat and the news crew were rushing toward her when Ziva leaped the fence and paused at the edge of a straight, five-meter drop. In a sort of empty concrete pool below her, Earnshaw dragged himself away, having apparently injured one or both of his legs in the fall. His gun was still in his hand.

Ziva carefully lowered herself as far as she could before letting go of the edge of the pool and dropping the last few meters. The impact reverberated through her lower legs, but she was uninjured. Leveling her gun at the slowly but futilely escaping Earnshaw, she knelt next to Tony, who was cradling his right arm. "Are you all right?"

"Mostly." He gave her a lopsided grin and she saw that his right shoulder was making a funny angle. "I realized I was falling at the last second before I went over and I think my arm caught the brunt of it. Don't think I can grip my SIG right now, though, so it's all you."

She rolled her eyes and walked after Earnshaw, who had reached the wall of the pool. "Mr. Earnshaw, pass your weapon to me, please." He turned and leaned his back against the wall, raising his gun. Somewhere above them, Smith was shouting his name over and over, her voice blending with a cacophony of shouts from Zoo patrons. Ziva blocked them out, concentrating on the injured man in front of her. She took a few steps closer. The ground beneath her feet seemed to shake with the strain of the moment. "Please lower your weapon."

"Why? So you can arrest me and charge me with murder? I didn't mean to kill that man, I swear."

Ziva flinched inwardly. Her usual method of diplomacy was in her right hand, but that wouldn't work at the moment. "And the courts will take that into consideration if you explain it to them. You need to give yourself a chance to explain it to them."

"There's no point." Earnshaw fired a single shot. Gasps and screams echoed through the large, open area. Ziva lowered her weapon as his body crumpled, the pistol he'd just used to end his own life clattering to the concrete at his side. The ground continued transmitting tremors through her feet and legs in spite of the sudden release of tension.

She felt a strong embrace around her waist. Without taking her eyes off Earnshaw, she hissed, "This is not the time."

"Ziva?" Her glance flicked to the left and she was surprised to see Tony still sitting on the ground a few meters away, his eyes wide. "That's not me."


	8. Chapter 8

Tony remained motionless on the ground, unsure of how he could help Ziva, who had frozen the moment she'd realized that he wasn't the one touching her. He'd seen her look down and grasp who had a hold of her. She was now staring intently at him with an expression that begged him to give her a reason not to panic. He could see her gun trembling in the hand that hadn't quite made it to her side after Earnshaw's final act. The idea of Ziva freaking out was very unsettling to Tony.

He carefully weighed his options. His right arm was immobilized by searing pain. He could attempt to get a left-handed shot off, but his aim was far less accurate on that side and the last thing he wanted to see was Ziva getting shot again. Then there was the possibility that a shot might not do any good. And even if it did, there was a camera crew filming the whole scene. NCIS didn't need that kind of publicity. He scanned the area around the fence above them. It didn't look like the shouting onlookers had any intention of doing anything to assist, unless pointing and screaming counted as helping. There was always the chance that they were just screaming over Earnshaw's dead body and hadn't noticed the plight of the two federal agents.

Why had that stupid guy chosen this escape route? Tony had been so fixed on catching Earnshaw when the man had jumped the fence that he hadn't realized he'd been jumping into an animal's enclosure. He holstered his weapon and struggled to stand, careful not to jostle his injured arm too much. Pain shot through his left ankle as he put weight on it. Slowly limping toward Ziva and her captor, he thought about shouting something like, 'Get your stinking trunk off her!,' but he wasn't sure how the elephant would respond to yelling. The large pachyderm seemed pretty intent on groping her at the moment. When he was only a few feet away, she finally asked in a hoarse whisper, "What do I do?"

Tony was seized with a sudden impulse to laugh. Was she whispering because she was afraid the elephant would overhear the getaway plan if she spoke too loudly? This day was so, so far from what he'd wanted it to be. He kept his own voice low as he replied, "Uh, don't shoot him? That might make him mad."

"Like that would help," she hissed. "There's a reason they shoot elephants with high-powered rifles and not pistols, you idiot. I can't believe I jumped in here after you."

"Hey, what do you want me to do? Pick a fight with Dumbo for feeling you up?"

"Tony, please, just…"

He wanted to get closer, to hold her hand or something, but the elephant was making him very nervous. He could only imagine how Ziva felt. "It's okay. I'm sure there are elephant trainers or something on the way." He glanced at the yard, but it still didn't look like anyone was coming to their rescue. "Maybe you should put your Jerboa away, though, just in case."

"It's a Jericho and are you _kidding_ me?"

"You're the one who's always warning me about your reflexes, remember? That thing can rip trees out of the ground, so I don't really want to think about what he might do to you if you shoot him. Aren't you sick of having me visit you in the ICU yet?"

"Right." She carefully placed her gun back in its holster and put both of her hands on the rough-looking gray appendage, trying to push it off her. Her eyes got even wider as the elephant moved his trunk down her leg, wrapping it around her thigh. "Oh, this is too much."

"Yeah," Tony growled. Things were not going well when he was jealous of an elephant in a zoo. "Can we do something to distract him maybe?"

She attempted to step away from the elephant, but he appeared to tighten his grip and made some odd rumbling noises. "I'm open to suggestions."

"I don't know…give him a snack?"

"What, like my arm?"

"Elephants are herbivores." Tony looked around for a branch, a bale of hay, anything to offer the elephant, but nothing was available. "Do you have any grass in your pockets?"

"Not likely. I went through Customs this morning, remember?" She smiled nervously and he returned it. Then they both began to giggle. "Is this a red light situation?"

Despite the pain his arm, his body shook with laughter. "This is so not normal."

"Why are we laughing?"

"So we don't fall apart." They were only partially sobered by the gravity of his reply. His smile remained in place as he said, "Is this some kind of stunt to make me jealous? Because it's not necessary. You know I love you."

"I love you, too. But I'll love you more if you get this elephant to stop molesting me."

"You were on a plane. Don't you have any gum or Altoids or something?"

"Wait." She blinked. "I have pretzels in my pants."

He didn't bother asking if that were some weird come-on as she slowly reached into one of her cargo pockets and removed an airline-size bag of pretzels. The elephant's trunk followed the bag as she held it away from her body. She opened it and tossed it as far as she could. The elephant untangled his trunk from her and went to retrieve it.

Tony released the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding as she quickly made her way to his side. "Let's get out of here."

She jerked her head toward Earnshaw. "What about the body?"

"What about Dumbo?" The elephant was busily picking up the pretzels one by one and making short work of it.

Ziva looked uncertainly from the corpse to the elephant to Tony. "Right. You're hurt. We should get you out of here first and worry about the crime scene later."

They had started toward a gate across the yard when the elephant trumpeted deafeningly. Tony took a deep breath. "You're not hiding any more snacks in your pants, are you?"

"Don't turn around. Can you run?"

"Not faster than him, I bet." His arm throbbed. It was going to hurt like hell to run with it. The ankle felt like it would hold up all right for a few steps, but after that… He estimated they were at least fifty yards from the gate. That was definitely too far. "You go on ahead and I'll catch up."

He felt her arm slip around his waist. "Yeah, because that sounds like something I would do."

"It was worth a try."

"On three. One…two…" He felt her grip on him tighten and he was suddenly very glad that she'd come right out and said she wouldn't leave him. The elephant behind them was trumpeting again. "Thr…"

"Kandula!" a man in a Zoo jacket shouted as he ran across the yard, trailed by two similarly clad women bearing hay. When the elephant had been distracted by the food, the man approached Tony and Ziva. "What in the hell are you two doing in here?"

Ziva released her hold on Tony's waist to show the man her badge. "NCIS. We followed a suspect into this enclosure."

"A suspect?"

"Yes." She pointed to Earnshaw's body in the pool. "As you can see, we'll need to seal the area as a crime scene. If you can move, um…"

"Kandula," the man supplied, still looking at the dead body in shock. Now that Tony really looked, he could see why everyone was so upset. Earnshaw had killed himself with a shot to the head, and the results were less than pretty. A spray of red fanned against the wall at head-level of where he'd been sitting.

Ziva continued, "Yes, Kandula, into another area, we'd appreciate it."

"Yeah. Anything." The man stumbled toward his colleagues to explain the situation.

Tony settled himself on a nearby rock, glad to get his weight off his ankle. Ziva sat next to him. "Want me to pop your shoulder back in?"

"What?"

"It looks dislocated. I can pop it in if you want."

He drew back slightly. "Well, uh, normally I'm all for your offers to manhandle me, but I don't think a dislocated shoulder is the only thing wrong with my arm right now. Maybe it would be best for a doctor to take care of it."

"Okay. You should probably call Gibbs, anyway."

"Me? Why not you?"

"I don't have my phone on me. Why shouldn't you be the one to call?"

He pointed at his arm and leg. "Because I'm injured!"

"Exactly. He can't yell at you."

"I don't see why not." Tony grumpily took his phone from his pocket. Ziva leaned over to kiss him. "You're just lucky you picked me over Dumbo."

"Kandula," she corrected, grinning as she watched him dial.

Kandula trumpeted once again as his keepers led into the elephant house across the yard.


	9. Chapter 9

"…Cingular is now the new AT&T."

Dramatic strings replaced the advertisement as the picture changed to a news studio. "Good afternoon and welcome to The Early Report. I'm Tom Tucker."

"And I'm Diane Simmons. Our top story centers on events that have been unfolding at the Smithsonian National Zoological Park since yesterday, when US Naval Lieutenant Lawrence Miller was tragically gunned down while visiting the Zoo's most popular attraction, the giant pandas, with his family." A photo of Miller in his dress blues flashed briefly on the screen.

"It now appears that Lt. Miller's death was caused by this man," the grainy photo from the BOLO appeared, "Mr. Robert Earnshaw of Annandale. Earnshaw was the former husband of head panda keeper Stephanie Smith. New information at this hour indicates that his targets may have actually been the giant pandas. His intention was to kill as many of the three pandas as possible before taking his own life, apparently in retaliation for the time his ex-wife spent with the bears both during their initial acclimation period after traveling from China and after the birth of the Zoo's star attraction, cub Tai Shan. Tom?"

"Truly shocking, Diane. Only ZNN was there earlier today when Earnshaw returned to the panda habitat, then fled from federal authorities into the elephant enclosure, where he took his own life." Footage of the brief footrace and standoff played. Tucker continued, "We now go live to Tricia Gibson at the National Zoo. Tricia, I'm told you witnessed the scene we've just watched. Can you tell us what that was like?"

Jenny Shepard pressed the power button on her remote control to turn off the television. "I don't suppose we could ask for anything better than that, given the circumstances."

"We're not going to watch the elephant part again?" Cynthia asked, swiveling her chair at the conference table to face the Director's desk and pouting. At Jenny's critical look, she continued, "I think the agency has come off quite well. If anything, we'll have to worry about Officer David's response to the elephant incident. Somehow I don't think she'll appreciate the media's jokes at her expense."

"Yes, the 'junk in the trunk' comment on MSNBC was highly uncalled for," Jenny replied laughingly. "Seriously, though, has the hospital called with news on Tony's condition?"

"Not yet. Agent McGee said the paramedics at the scene preliminarily diagnosed Agent DiNozzo with a sprained ankle, dislocated shoulder and broken arm. Those aren't overly serious injuries. I think we would have been informed immediately of changes for the worse, so maybe no news is good news in this case."

"Did Ziva go to the hospital with him?"

"Agent McGee said Officer David was assisting at the scene."

"Hmm."

"He also said that at least one of the news crews was attempting to get her to film a segment with the elephant, feeding it or petting it or something like that."

Jenny knitted her brow. "Did he say how she responded?"

"Diplomatically, apparently. They're still working the scene, so she has a good excuse to ignore the media's requests at the moment." Cynthia smiled and stood. "At least the lead story on the six o'clock news won't be an NCIS agent stabbing a cameraman."

As she reached the door, Jenny called her back. "Make sure our press secretary meets with the Zoo's people before they start making statements. Things have gone well so far. I'd hate to have a feather in our cap turn into a black eye."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Once Cynthia had closed the door, Jenny turned the TV back on just in time to see Ziva offering the elephant a small silver bag. The anchors were giggling, apologizing for the giggling and making no effort to stop giggling. The scene played out, with the trainers arriving and Tony and Ziva sitting on one of the rocks in the enclosure. The frame froze as they kissed.

"Even after a few tense moments with the Zoo's youngest elephant, five-year-old Kandula, it appears the agents had no trouble relaxing. Think that's a new federal policy, Diane?"

"Perhaps she was trying to kiss him to make him better. I can't say I blame her, Tom. Moving on to the Middle East…"

Jenny sighed and turned off the television again. "I hope Gibbs isn't planning to watch the news today," she muttered, putting on her glasses to look over some papers on her desk.

* * *

Gibbs squatted next to Earnshaw's body after spending over an hour speaking with Ziva, Tony and the numerous witnesses. "Tell me there's no way this can be interpreted as anything but a suicide, Ducky."

"In spite of the NCIS policy on investigating suicides, I fail to see why you're even considering that it could be anything but, Jethro. Not only are there plenty of eyewitnesses, but the entire incident has been captured on film. The camera doesn't lie."

"That's what worries me. It's a big story and the media is going to go over this one with a fine-toothed comb. Just tell me what I want to hear."

"Why anyone would _want_ to hear about such a grisly event…yes." Ducky pointed to the circular wound on Earnshaw's right temple. "You can see the burns on the skin. The gun was in contact with his head when the trigger was pulled. His right hand has a fine misting of blood on it, as does the weapon, found next to his body. He has perimortem injuries consistent with a fall, which, unless I'm mistaken, was also filmed." He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Jethro, has anyone been suggesting that this man didn't take his own life?"

Gibbs adjusted his hat, satisfied with the medical examiner's work. "If they try it, we'll be able to prove he didn't."

The two men were distracted by a shouted curse from across the yard. Ducky shook his head and yelled, "Mr. Palmer! A little decorum, if you please!"

Palmer rushed over with the gurney, blushing deeply. "I'm sorry, Doctor. It's just that yesterday it was the pandas and today…" he trailed off as he scraped his shoe against the concrete. "I don't think I like the Zoo."

"Nonsense. It's quite lovely on a mild spring day with no dead bodies about. I remember one April day a few years ago, I visited…"

Gibbs walked away before Ducky's story really got started. McGee and Ziva were perched on a railing next to the elephant enclosure, safe from reporters behind the yellow police tape that had been used to cordon off the area. When Ziva saw him approaching she stood. "Gibbs, if it's all right, I'd like to go to the hospital to check in on Tony now."

"In a minute. You two finish in the panda pen?"

"Yes. We have a statement from the keeper, Smith, and I got the surveillance video, so we should have Earnshaw entering and fleeing."

"What about witness statements?"

"Well, boss, you took some of those," McGee continued. "And I think I got the rest."

"You _think_?"

"We can't be sure if people left between seeing what happened in the elephant enclosure and us arriving. The security guards think they stopped everyone, but…we have about thirty statements, and they all corroborate what the video shows."

"That's good work, McGee. And what have you been doing, Ziva?"

"Giving you my statement, making sure Tony was packed safely into the ambulance and sitting around not touching anything or talking to anybody because this is a highly publicized incident and until Earnshaw's death is confirmed as a suicide by the autopsy my involvement would be inappropriate." She smiled smugly. "I believe that covers it. As I won't be able to search Earnshaw's residence with you and McGee, may I go now?"

Gibbs didn't answer but turned to Ducky and Palmer, who were just emerging from the gate with the gurney. Ducky's story was just coming to its conclusion. "…but, wouldn't you know it, she wasn't wearing any!"

"That's a, uh, fascinating story, Doctor."

Ziva tapped Gibbs' shoulder. "So can I leave?"

"Do you need a ride, my dear?" Ducky inquired. "Mr. Palmer and I would be happy to drop you off before returning to the morgue with the unfortunate Mr. Earnshaw."

"No, I'll take Tony's car. But thank you, Ducky."

"Very well. Give my best to Anthony." He winked. "I'm sure you'll take excellent care of him. I look forward to hearing about your adventures with the elephant over tea tomorrow."

"It's a date, Ducky." She waited until Ducky and Palmer had wheeled the body up the walk to turn back to Gibbs. "Can I leave or not?"

"McGee!"

"Yeah, boss?"

"Go with Ducky up to the truck. Your only answer is 'no comment.' Ziva, with me."

She followed behind Gibbs in the opposite direction from the other group. "Gibbs, I'm not even supposed to be at work today. I'm jet-lagged and I need a shower and I've been filmed being groped by an elephant. I just want to…"

"Are you done?" he interrupted, glad he was walking in front of her. It prevented her from seeing his smile.

"No, I'm not. I haven't seen Tony for over a month…"

"I'm just taking you around the other way to avoid the press. Unless you want to go back and shoot a spot with you making friends with that walking rock, of course."

"Oh. No." They walked in silence for a few paces, circling the elephant house and hippopotamus enclosure. "Sorry."

He sniffed the air. "I just assumed it was the hippo."

"I meant…never mind." They emerged on the walkway ahead of the crowd surrounding McGee and the autopsy team. "Look, Gibbs, I just want to tell you that I appreciate…"

He cut her off, "Don't say it. If you don't tell me, we can keep pretending that you and DiNozzo are just partners."

"Right. Is that your military's 'Don't ask, don't tell' policy I've heard so much about?"

"Not quite."

She paused as they arrived at Tony's car. "I'll let you know how he's doing as soon as I know."

"He's fine, Ziva." He patted her arm, unsure if trying to convince her or himself. Loading team members into emergency vehicles had gotten old fast. He watched her pull Tony's keys from her pocket and unlock the door of the Mustang. "Drive carefully. It's rush hour."

"Can we lay off my driving until I've officially returned to work?"

Gibbs smiled. "I expect you in early tomorrow, Officer David. And welcome home."


	10. Chapter 10

Tony lethargically swung his uninjured right leg off his gurney as he amused himself by people watching in the hospital waiting room. He'd been brought to the ER almost thirty minutes before, but a series of serious emergency cases had prevented any prompt treatment, short of a glass of water and a medicine cup containing two Tylenol-3s. As long as he didn't move around too much, he couldn't feel a thing. He was a snug as a bear eating bamboo in the…he blinked hard. The pandas had really gotten in his head.

Fortunately, analgesics really put things in perspective. He looked around the waiting room. It was crowded with people who looked like they had minor complaints – colds mostly, maybe a few people with sprains and the like. There was a construction worker who had nailed his hand to a piece of wood who probably took precedence over Tony's injuries, but Tony knew he'd get in before the unfortunate wounded man. He'd been careful to make sure his badge was visible and at least two cute nurses had made 'officer down' jokes, which were surprisingly funny when no one was yelling it in regards to a co-worker. It was probably the pills.

The television in the waiting room was tuned to ZNN, but no one had noticed that he was one of the federal agents in the video from the Zoo that seemed like it was being replayed every ten minutes or so. After his heroic leap into the elephant enclosure, he would have been happy to sign autographs, but everyone was too occupied by their own health complaints to notice him. Hearing the news anchors joke about Ziva's close encounter of the pachyderm kind, however, was almost enough to make up for the fact that he was stuck in a hospital, by himself and without treatment. Beyond the wonderful painkillers, of course.

He'd just started playing a mental game of 'guess the STD' with some of the less obviously ill people when an ambulance sped into the driveway. He watched a group of frantically working doctors and nurses push a bloodied young woman past on a gurney, her face obscured by a mask and bag and a paramedic straddling her body as he performed chest compressions. Tony got only a glimpse of the dark-haired woman as she rolled past, but it was enough for him to decide her chances didn't look good. He settled back on his own gurney, prepared to wait for an hour before he started to become a difficult patient. He anticipated that at least one of his colleagues would be arriving before then. Hopefully Ziva.

He closed his eyes and smiled, picturing her face as she walked up the jetway and saw him waiting for her at the airport gate earlier that day. After his unsuccessful search for roses the previous night, he had managed to make it to the florist early that morning. The older lady who'd sold him the two dozen red roses had remembered him from almost six months earlier when he'd stumbled into the shop looking for the perfect get well bouquet. She'd smiled brightly when he'd told her his current purchase was for the same special someone who'd gotten the last bunch of flowers she'd arranged. She'd even gone so far as to say, "Make sure you remember our shop when it comes time for the wedding." He had smiled through his terror.

Wedding? Ziva had made it clear that even their living arrangement was temporary, and even though he'd given her the impression that he wanted her to stay as long as possible, he was secretly thrilled she wanted to go 'apartment stalking' at the first opportunity. His nerves were complicated by the fact that he didn't want her to scare her by making her think he was having any doubts. In spite of his complete confidence in their future, he was anxious. What if Moussad recalled her again unexpectedly and she had to get involved with or marry another arms dealer or terrorist or some other target? He didn't think he could cope with another Tushkevich. Worse, he knew she couldn't tell him if there were any other secret fiancés out there. Dating a spy was difficult.

Tony watched a dozen more patients walk through the automatic doors to check in and settle into the waiting room. ZNN continued replaying the Zoo footage, but didn't appear to have anything new to add. He sighed expressively and checked his watch. He'd been waiting for almost two hours and still nothing: no medical care, no recognition from the waiting room populace watching the news, no co-workers to wish him well and check up on him. He hadn't even gotten any calls.

An apple-cheeked nurse eventually approached him. "I'm sorry it's taken so long, Agent DiNozzo. We're going to take you down for x-rays now."

He grinned and shifted himself into a comfortable position. "Hey, I understand. It's not like I couldn't wait, like some of the people I saw come through." His painkillers were still working quite effectively.

She unlocked the wheels on his gurney and pushed him down the hall. "Yes, we've been hit hard today. We lost the poor girl you must have seen come past not long ago. Car accident. One of the police officers who came in with her said they couldn't even identify the car as a Mustang until they looked at the registration. It's true what they say – speed kills. Agent DiNozzo, are you all right?"

Tony tried to say yes, but his breath was too unreliable. He shook as he tried to catch it. Young dark-haired woman. Mustang. Speeding. "Please, do you know her name?"

"Who?" A pair of double doors banged against the walls as she continued to push him down the hall, following the yellow line.

He tried to turn to look at the nurse, but the width of the bed made it nearly impossible. "The woman who died in the Mustang."

"I'm sorry, but I can't share that information. HIPPA, you know. I've already said too much, I'm sure, but I think I can trust a federal agent. Hey!"

He jumped off the gurney, throwing his left arm out to catch himself on the wall as his ankle collapsed. He took a few shambling steps back toward the ER. "I need to know…"

"Agent DiNozzo! You get back on this gurney immediately!"

He felt several other pairs of hands join the nurse's as he tried to fight his way back to the ER. If he could only see the woman's face, know for sure. He reached into his pocket to feel the edge of the envelope he never wanted to open; it was still there. The prick of a needle in his neck called him back to reality temporarily. Some burly orderlies were lifting him onto his gurney and restraining him. The painkillers didn't do anything to counteract their actions, but he repressed his screams of agony to make one last effort to speak before he lost consciousness, "Please not her…"


	11. Chapter 11

McGee sniffed the stale air in Robert Earnshaw's studio apartment and wondered why he'd been so eager to escape the traffic jam that had delayed their arrival. The place was small, dingy and overcrowded with boxes and drab furniture. Gray light filtered through thin, dirty curtains, doing little to reveal any details other than dust particles stirred up when they'd cleared the room a few minutes earlier floating lazily through the air. He set his bag down carefully and looked for a light switch.

Gibbs bumped into his back as he came through the door. "Waiting for an invitation, McGee? Start looking around this damn place." He was in a foul mood after the holdup on the road. They'd gone back to NCIS to drop off the evidence from the Zoo for analysis and to change from the truck to a car. The ten-minute side trip had ensured their getting stuck not only in rush hour traffic, but also in a complete stoppage of rush hour traffic due to an accident somewhere on the highway.

The tie-up had apparently affected Ziva's route to the hospital as well; she had yet to call with an update on Tony's condition. Unless he wasn't as badly injured as he'd looked and they were…McGee inhaled the unpleasant air to clear his mind as soon as it found the words 'naughty nurse.' His eyes finally settled on a desktop in a dark corner. "I'll, um, I think I see a computer on the desk over there."

Gibbs turned on the lights, creating little added illumination. "Don't bother starting it. Just take it back and you and Abby can play with it later."

"Right, boss." McGee flicked on a small lamp, creating a circle of light in his little corner of the room. He scanned the desk and collected a few loose disks and CDs in an evidence bag before kneeling to reach under the desk to disconnect the CPU. It was too far back for him to reach the cables. He adjusted his hat and took a deep breath, lying on the floor and scooting his body toward the wall.

At the counter, Gibbs recited a litany of letters from creditors, "Past due, final notice, please remit, we are coming to break your legs…" The sound of crinkling plastic was followed by that of drawers opening. "Huh. Funny how a guy with this much in his checking account can't be bothered to pay his bills."

McGee didn't answer. He was halfway through the numerous connections when he had to breathe. Finishing the rest of the job quickly, he sat up, barely noticing the fact that he'd hit his head on the desk in his rush to get off the rug.

Gibbs stood at the kitchen counter looking at a checkbook, having bagged a pile of Earnshaw's unopened mail. "You okay, McGee?"

"Um, yeah. Just didn't think we'd be going somewhere today that made me miss the smell of the elephants." He leaned down and picked up the CPU. The unit was old and heavy. It hadn't even been connected to a phone or cable line, though based on what Gibbs had said about unpaid bills, it was possible he'd recently lost some utility services.

"Some guys can't handle the housekeeping when they find themselves living alone again." Gibbs dropped the checkbook into a bag and labeled it.

"You do okay, boss." His statement was met with a glare. "I just meant that your house is, well, it doesn't smell like…" he stopped as he heard his phone begin to ring. "I should probably get that." He placed the CPU on the counter next to Gibbs and pressed the answer button, taking a few steps across the room. "McGee."

"Hey, McGee," Abby greeted him brightly. "How are things at casa de Earnshaw?"

"Stinky. How are things at the lab?"

"Now, when you say 'stinky,' do you mean things aren't going well or things actually have a bad odor?"

"Mostly the latter."

Her tone became serious. "Then I'm sorry to lay this on you, Timmy, but I've got bad news."

He walked out the front door and leaned against the side of the building. "Is that why you called me instead of Gibbs?"

"I thought he might take it better if it came from you."

"It must be bad if you're telling a lie that transparent."

She didn't even deny it, but immediately asked, "Have you found another gun in Earnshaw's apartment?"

"No, but we haven't done much looking yet. Don't tell me…"

"Sorry. I performed ballistics on the Beretta and it's not the weapon used to kill Lt. Miller."

McGee sighed and peeked around the corner to look at the tiny apartment. Even with a thorough search, there was no guarantee the murder weapon would even be in small space. He pulled his head out again. "Gibbs is not gonna be happy."

"Yeah, and I haven't even told you the bad news yet."

"There's something worse?" McGee's brain automatically went to Tony. Maybe the doctors had discovered some terrible hidden injury and that's why Ziva hadn't called – she was too distraught and the hospital had just called NCIS directly.

He plugged the ear not pressed to the phone to shut out the sounds of traffic speeding past on the busy road just beyond a bare strip of grass. Abby continued, "Well, Ducky and I were comparing some of the images on the video to Robert Earnshaw and we…" McGee could hear her taking a deep breath, but he didn't encourage her to go on. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear whatever he was going to have to tell Gibbs. She finally said, "We don't think he shot Miller."

McGee sighed twice, first with relief that there wasn't some major problem with Tony and again with exasperation. "But Earnshaw confessed! He told Ziva he didn't mean to kill Miller before he shot himself! People heard him say it!"

Abby yelled back, "Hey, this isn't my fault! Whoever the guy in the video is looks a lot like Earnshaw, but it's not him. He's at least two inches taller and has a mole on his neck under his right ear. We can't decide if the noses are different too, but I think it might just be the angle and the light…"

"Abby!" McGee tried not to shout, but he couldn't help himself. Gibbs was already standing in the doorway looking at him expectantly. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure, McGee."

"Sorry, I just…ugh. Heard anything about Tony?"

"Not yet. Say hi to Gibbs for me." There was a click followed by silence.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows. "Well?"

McGee swallowed hard. "We've got a problem."


	12. Chapter 12

A/n: The first part is weird. For a reason, mind you, but it's weird. I freely admit that.

* * *

Tony blinked and the dancing ferret in the pink tutu scampered under the curtain. It was just as well. He was in no mood for ballet. He'd been either asleep or awake for random intervals in the past…couple of whiles. He couldn't really recall many details of what had happened since he'd found out that Ziva was gone, but, at the very least, he was grateful he had a reason the world had ceased to make sense. Things didn't have to make sense anymore, not without her. If he could get used to the octopus in the neighboring bed and the walking bookshelves that occasionally looked in on him, he could probably get used to a world without Ziva.

The tears he brushed away were warm, clear and salty. That hadn't changed.

A blonde woman appeared in a cloud of red fog and approached his bed, singing a song about blood pressure. He smiled at her and said, "I'm gonna have long talk with that car when I get out of here. I trusted him, and he couldn't keep her safe. Bastard."

She nodded and continued singing, "It's one-twenty-one, over eighty-three. We-e'll take ca-are of you."

"She liked _The Sound of Music_." The woman nodded and disappeared into her red cloud. Tony turned back to Ziva's letter, the one Jen had delivered to him after the operation in Siberia. He'd promised himself then that he would never open it. Now, he opened it. It was long, colorful and brightly illustrated. He wasn't sure why Ziva would write a goodbye letter with a recommendation that he drink Absolut Citron, but if that were what she wanted, he would do it. He would do anything she asked – wear a Movado watch, buy a Bose radio, drive a Cadillac Escalade, anything.

He set the letter down next to him, wanting to save it for later. If he read it in installments, he could make it last. The clock on the wall winked in agreement.

Suddenly, the curtains drifted apart and Ziva stepped into the treatment area. A golden glow surrounded her. Tony smiled as she swept her purple cape off her shoulders and dropped it on the counter with her jeweled scepter. Her voice was like music when she spoke. "Sorry it took me so long to get here. Gibbs kept me at the scene, traffic was brutal and it took me forever to find a parking space and even then I had to walk about five blocks."

Tony shook his head sadly. Her hand felt cold when he took it in his. "Yeah, I know."

"Did your ambulance get stuck on the way here?"

"No."

"What have the doctors said?" She leaned down to kiss him and he savored the taste of her mouth, refusing to let her go when she tried to pull back. A Christmas elf tried to come in, but saw them and withdrew with an apology and a warning about Santa's naughty list. Ziva finally escaped from his grasp. "Calm down. It's only been about two hours."

"But it going to be forever once you go." He picked up the paper on the bed next to him. "I read your letter. I want you to know that I love you too and I will carry you in my heart forever."

"That's very sweet, Tony, but that's a _Vogue_ magazine."

He flipped through the pages, sighing. "You look so beautiful in all these pictures. I glad you had them taken for me." He felt a tear slip down his cheek. "I'm going to miss you. When you leave I'm going to be alone. Where will I ever find someone like you again?"

"Okay, I officially have no idea what you're talking about. I'm going to find a doctor…"

The light that burst through when she opened the curtains was blinding. He cried, "No, don't go!"

"I'll be back in a minute."

"You won't!" He reached out for her and was gratified when she came back. "I know you can't stay forever, but can't you stay for just a little while? Can we make love one last time?"

He gently caressed one of her breasts, but she batted his hand away. "Tony, we're in the Emergency Room. I should really go get a doctor."

He grabbed her hand and held onto it. "Look, Ziva, it's okay. I know. I'm just glad you're here so I can say goodbye."

"I'm coming right back."

"Sssh. Let me kiss you one more time."

Her face became worried. "What are you not telling me? Are you more seriously hurt than they thought?"

"No, I'm fine." Her bafflement suddenly became clear to him. "Oh, Ziva, you don't know, do you? Bruce Willis didn't know either." He yawned, starting to feel sleepy again. "I love you," he murmured.

He felt her lips press tenderly against his forehead. "I love you, too." The light filled the room again and she was gone.

* * *

Ziva pulled the curtain around Tony's bed shut and grabbed the first hospital employee she saw, a nurse with bright red cheeks. "Hi, I'm with Agent DiNozzo. He's behaving a little strangely and I'd like someone to come in and check on him."

She smiled and patted Ziva's arm. "Is he still a little loopy from the medication? Poor thing. Don't worry, he'll get over it in a few hours."

"What was he given?"

"He got some painkillers when he first arrived. Then he got a sedative on the way to X-ray."

"Why did he need to be sedated for an x-ray?"

The nurse suddenly eyed her suspiciously. "Are you a relative?"

"I work with him at NCIS. And Tony and I…" she paused, wondering how her answer would affect the amount of information the nurse would give her. She decided to tell the truth of the moment. "We live together."

It seemed to work on the nurse. "Ah, a successful office romance. Good for you two. Well, I suppose I can tell you what's happening. He was fine right up until we were in the hall going for his x-rays. I was apologizing for the long wait and explaining that we were really hit hard today. I mentioned one poor girl who was killed in a car accident, and he just lost it. It took three orderlies to get him down."

Ziva cocked her head, coming to the disturbing conclusion that the nurse was telling the truth. "That doesn't sound like Tony."

She shrugged, "People respond differently to trauma. Most of his injuries aren't too serious, but it's possible that hearing about another person's death caused some kind of psychological reaction. He did see the woman who died being brought in, and she was in pretty bad shape."

"Is that important?" The nurse's explanation didn't hold much water in Ziva's eyes. Tony saw death in his job every day. Why would a woman killed in a car crash suddenly set him off?

"It might be." She shifted uncomfortably. "It may be partially my fault. I felt bad about him having to wait so long and I made the mistake of telling him the car they pulled her out of couldn't even be identified as a Mustang because it was so demolished because of the speed it had been…"

Everything abruptly clicked. "You told him a woman driving a Mustang was killed in a high-speed collision? No other details?"

"That was all I really knew."

"I was driving his Mustang today. He gave me the keys just before he came to the hospital." She put her hands on her hips, everything Tony had said starting to make a little sense. "He thinks I'm dead."

The nurse looked horrified. "Oh, my. I never should have said anything! The woman had dark hair like yours. That certainly explains why he was so upset, to think his girlfriend…and then to be wrestled down? The poor thing!"

"There's some precedent for it." Ziva got an odd look in response. "What about his injuries? His shoulder and his ankle?"

"Why don't you go sit with him and I'll send his doctor in to discuss that with you."

"Please do." She watched the nurse bustle down the hall before reentering the curtained area.

Tony was holding his left hand to his face and sniffing it. He smiled at her dreamily as she perched on the edge of his bed. "My hand smells like you. How long can you stay?"

"Until you're discharged, I suppose."

"Does that mean until I die too? You'll wait for me?" He reached around her waist, trying to pull her into an embrace in the bed.

"I'm not dead, Tony." She carefully disengaged his arm, bringing his hand to her lips. She kissed his knuckle. "And I'm not going anywhere."

"I can't ask you to stay. It isn't fair. I love you and I don't want you to suffer." His pleading expression was touching.

She leaned over him. "The nurse said you'll be back to yourself in a few hours and then you'll realize I'm really not dead."

"Is that what he's been on about?" She turned to see a plump, balding man in a white coat standing just inside the curtain. "We were rather concerned about him, raving on and on about the love of his life being gone and all. I take it he was talking about you?"

Ziva smiled and stood, extending her hand. "Officer Ziva David."

The hand the enveloped hers was large and a little sweaty. "Dr. Joel Blumenthal. Always nice to meet a fellow member of the tribe. Oh, I noticed your necklace. And your accent. Are you from Israel, Officer David?"

"It's Ziva. And yes."

"Well, you can just call me Joel. It's a beautiful country. My wife and I try to visit every few years. She has family in Eilat, so we usually go in the winter. I don't suppose you're a big fan of the winters in DC." He winked and picked up Tony's chart. "And how are you feeling, Agent DiNozzo?"

"Check over my Ziva first. Make sure she's as alive as she says she is."

Dr. Blumenthal smiled in a fatherly manner and removed his stethoscope from his neck, placing the earpieces in Tony's ears. "Why don't you have a listen to her heart yourself?" He turned to Ziva, handing her the chestpiece. "I'll let you take care of the placement. I'll just be outside."

She leaned down and slid the cold metal piece under her shirt, pressing it to her chest just to the left of her sternum. Tony reacted immediately, a smile spreading across his face. "You're thumping. You _are_ alive." His hand moved to cover hers. "Sounds wonderful."

The doctor returned and took his stethoscope back a few minutes later, asking, "Would you like to hear about your condition now, Agent DiNozzo?"

Ziva, seated on the bed again, replied for him, "Please."

Dr. Blumenthal mounted several x-ray films on the wall and lighted them. "As you can see here, both the radius and ulna are fractured. Simple fractures, fortunately. We've set those and they should heal up with a few weeks in a cast. We were a little concerned the scaphoid bone in the wrist was also fractured, but it turned out to be a shadow on the first film we took. The wrist is sprained, but we're not too concerned about that since it will be mostly immobilized in the cast.

"Now, the shoulder was dislocated. We manipulated and reduced the luxation. The MRI after the reduction showed some swelling around the joint, which is perfectly normal. The arm will need to be in a sling for several days, though perhaps longer depending on what happens with the healing of distal bones. The ankle sprain is minor – we wrapped it. Other than that, you're in good shape, Agent DiNozzo." While the doctor had been talking, Ziva had felt Tony's hand on her back. He removed it when Dr. Blumenthal turned. "Because of the reaction to the medication, we'll want to keep him overnight for observation, but, barring anything unforeseen, he should be able to go home tomorrow."

"Sweet."

"Yes, Agent DiNozzo. I'm sure you'll be quite all right with Ziva taking good care of you." He collected the films. "Someone from admitting should be around in a few minutes. It was nice meeting you." He shook Ziva's hand again before leaving the room.

As soon as the curtain closed, Tony attempted to pull her down on top of him. She caught herself just before she collided with his chest. His laugh was carefree and contagious. She allowed him a few moments of freedom with her body before pulling back. "I should really call Gibbs and let him know how you're doing."

"You're not gonna leave again, are you?"

"I'll just take your cell and run out for a minute."

"What if they come and take me away and you can't find me? What if you have to shoot a bear?"

She sighed and sat back down on the bed, to Tony's childlike delight. Despite his drug-addled rambling, he had a point. "I suppose I can hold off on calling until you're settled in a room." She pushed his hand out of her lap. "Behave."

"I can't. I think they took my pants."


	13. Chapter 13

Abby paced a circular path around her central workstation. Today's evidence had been fun, especially when accompanied by the news footage from the Zoo, but the atmosphere in the lab had changed when she'd realized where it was leading her. The Beretta recovered at the scene hadn't fired the bullet that had killed Lt. Miller. The suicide note that had been found in Earnshaw's pocket had tested positive for a set of fingerprints that weren't his and weren't in the system. Worse, his prints had been only on the outside folds of the paper, not on the inside where the writing was.

She paused at her table to reexamine the letter, safe in its plastic evidence bag. In addition to practically indicting the pandas with crimes against humanity, it was full of overly dramatic phrases like 'goodbye, cruel world,' 'unable to cope without you,' and 'please forgive me.' Not that it wasn't horrible for a person to choose to end his own life. It was just…Abby wanted to think that anyone capable of consciously making the decision to die would be able to find some inspiring last words of his own, rather than cobbling together some cheap dialogue from a _Lifetime_ movie. Maybe that was all there was at rock bottom – _Lifetime_ movies and hatred of pandas. She dropped the letter and continued pacing.

Her major problem was the one that had arisen when they'd started comparing the footage of Miller's murdered to Earnshaw's corpse. Gibbs would be arriving at any minute with evidence from the man's apartment and her last hope for placating him was a simulation running on the computer. She'd entered photos from the surveillance cameras in the panda habitat and photos from the autopsy into her facial recognition program to compare sizes and angles of the major features. It was possible that she and Ducky (_and Jimmy, too_, she reminded herself) were being fooled by some tricks of light or poor video quality and the shooter and Earnshaw really were the same person.

She crossed as many fingers as she could when the buzzer sounded. "You better tell me what Gibbs wants to hear," she warned the computer before clicking on the results. "Spork!"

"Spork, Abs?"

Her eyes widened as she spun and saw Gibbs in the doorway, holding a Caf-Pow. "Yes. Spork. It's a portmanteau, like smog or brunch."

He advanced slowly, holding the Caf-Pow in front of him. "What are you talking about?"

"It's a utensil, Gibbs." She snatched the plastic cup from his hand and took a few steps away from him. "Not quite a spoon, not quite a fork. They could just as easily have called it a foon, but I think they made the right choice with spork."

"Why are you shouting it?"

"Um, because it's easier than shouting 'down-home biscuits with gravy and grits' when I need a non-curse curse?"

"Do I want to know why you're shouting curses to your lab?"

"Probably not," she answered honestly, taking a long sip from her drink. "But we do need to discuss it. In spite of the fact that he confessed and had a note in his pocket saying he was sorry about it, Earnshaw did not kill Lt. Lawrence Miller." She transferred the image comparisons to the larger plasma screen on the wall. "The measurements are all off – pupil to pupil, width of mouth, even the size of the nose. The guy in the video from yesterday isn't the same guy on the table in the morgue today."

She could see the muscles in his jaw tighten. "Please tell me you have some good news."

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"I have something but I'm not sure what it means yet. I found two sets of fingerprints on the suicide note, and Earnshaw didn't touch that paper anywhere but the side without the writing. It looks like someone else wrote it, folded it, and then handed it to him. At first I thought that maybe it was some kind of weird trick, except he clearly intended to kill himself, so then I figured that maybe he dictated the note to someone else, and that someone else could be the real killer." She hit a few keys and called up some information on the screen, displaying a Virginia driver's license. "Earnshaw has a brother, but as you can see he doesn't look like our guy."

"We should still talk to him."

She waited for him to add a 'nice work, Abs,' but she was disappointed. Instead she asked, "Any word on how Tony's doing? I saw him limping and holding his arm on the news footage, but no one seems to know how…"

"I haven't heard yet," Gibbs interrupted. "Do you have anything else?"

"I won't know until I look through whatever you brought me from Earnshaw's apartment. Where's my loot?"

Gibbs didn't answer as McGee's voice could now be heard in the hall. He entered the lab pushing a cart while attempting to hold his phone against his ear with his shoulder. "Yeah, I'll say I talked to you, but I don't want to have to…" He looked up. "Gibbs! Um, Ziva needs to talk to you."

Gibbs took the phone from McGee and walked toward Abby's office. "Yeah?"

Abby assisted McGee in unloading several boxes and a CPU from the cart. "Is Ziva with Tony?"

"Uh-huh. He had some kind of drug interaction and got a little weird. She said he thought she was a ghost or something when she first arrived. He's doing better, but they're keeping him overnight just to make sure."

"And what about the reason he went to the hospital in the first place? Is he going to be okay after trying to leap tall elephants in a single bound?"

"He broke his arm, so he'll be out of the field for a few weeks, which is probably why Gibbs looks so happy right about now."

Gibbs' expression was indeed stormy and his raised voice carried through the lab. "I need you here…I don't care what the doctor said. DiNozzo's a big boy and he can handle being by himself for…but when are they discharging him? Tomorrow? What time? Well, I want both of you here as soon as you leave that hospital!" He snapped the phone shut and tossed it to McGee, who caught it awkwardly.

"You can have a piece of her cake if that will make you feel better, Gibbs," Abby suggested.

He strode toward the door, pointing to the table with both index fingers. "You two get to work on all that stuff. McGee!"

"Yeah, boss?"

"I wanna know where all that money deposited in his account yesterday came from."

"I'll get right…on that," McGee finished after the elevator doors closed. He pulled out his phone and dialed.

Abby snapped on a pair of gloves and began inspecting the contents of the boxes from Earnshaw's apartment. "Who are you calling?"

"Just checking on…" He turned his attention to the phone call, "Yes, I'm calling to check on a patient… Anthony DiNozzo…" His expression turned from smug to crestfallen. "He is? Oh. No, that's fine. Thank you."

"Why did you just call…oh, Timmy!" Abby slapped her hands on the table. "Did you call the hospital just to make sure Tony really had been admitted?"

"Hey, I was just making sure they weren't going to get in trouble tomorrow when it turns out they were at his place all night."

"Couldn't you have just checked the spy cameras you've set up throughout the apartment?"

"I don't have…I would never…why would you even think that?"

Abby looked at him disbelievingly. "McGee, you just called the hospital to make sure that Ziva wasn't lying about Tony having been admitted. We really need to find you a new hobby; maybe one that doesn't involve stalking your coworkers."

"I'm not stalking anyone," he protested.

She shook her head. "Relax. We can gossip about Tony and Ziva once the Caf-Pow kicks in. For now, stalk the money that Gibbs was talking about."


	14. Chapter 14

Tony opened his eyes and scanned the dimly lit hospital room. The windows admitted nothing but darkness. He could see the light from a television of the adjacent bed flickering on the wall, but the drawn curtain prevented him from observing his roommate. Murmured conversation regarding arteriosclerosis told him he probably didn't want much to do with whatever was happening over there.

He groped awkwardly for the bed controls with his left hand and raised himself to a sitting position to get a better idea of his condition. His left foot was propped up on a pillow and his entire right arm and shoulder were immobilized. He wiggled his fingers to make sure the blue cast on his arm was protecting only fractures and not concealing nerve damage. Movement was limited due to the measures taken to set the arm, but everything in his hand seemed to be in working order. The pain was minimal, so he must have been given something. He clearly remembered the events that had led to his injuries, but everything after that was a blur. He'd arrived at the hospital and waited for a while, then there was just a blank during which he must have been treated.

The clock on the wall indicated that it was just after five. Had no one come to check on him all afternoon? He thought he could remember Ziva arriving in the Emergency Room, but the memory was fuzzy. It was possible he just imagined it after spending the morning with her. They could still be occupied with the investigation and getting updates on him by phone. Ziva's presence felt almost tangible, though. He tried to remember her saying goodbye. His eyes suddenly found her gray coat draped over the back of the chair next to his bed and her olive backpack sitting on the floor next to it. He sighed audibly; she was here and couldn't have gone far if she'd left all of her stuff.

The murmurs on the other side of the curtain ceased as light footsteps tapped the tile and a moment later Ziva sank into the chair. She opened the _Washington Post_ she'd brought in with her and began to read. Tony watched her for a little bit before saying, "Hey."

"Oh!" She looked up in surprise. "You're awake. How are you feeling?"

"You mean other than the broken bones and aching body?" He grunted slightly for effect as she sat next to him on his left side. "Never better."

"I meant in the head. You were a little off when I first got here."

"Off?" His lips certainly felt fine as she kissed him gently.

She drew back just before he could move his hand from where it was resting on her thigh up to play with her hair. "I believe the nurse in the ER called you 'hoopy.'"

"You mean loopy?"

"Yes, loopy." She smiled in a self-satisfied way and moved back to the chair, folding her paper and placing it on the wide window ledge. "Do you remember anything that happened after you came to the hospital?"

"They had some real emergencies, so I had to wait. I remember a nurse telling me she was going to take me somewhere and someone was telling me about…" He blinked as the experiences in the waiting room and hallway came back to him in a flash. He sucked in a rapid breath. "I was afraid you were dead."

She took his hand and squeezed it. "We've been over this. I'm fine. You're the one stuck in the hospital bed for once."

He smiled and stroked his thumb along the back of her hand. "Hospitals aren't so bad. They wait on you hand and foot. I haven't missed dinner, have I?"

"I saw some orderlies passing out trays on my way back from the bathroom, so I don't think you've missed what's sure to be a delicious meal." She rolled her eyes and pulled her hand back. "I think I might run out and get something a little later."

"I'm sure they'll get you a meal. In Tel Aviv they fed me every time I visited you."

"That was a different hospital and you would have starved if they hadn't because you practically never left my room."

"Those kosher meals weren't bad. Speaking of never leaving, why'd you have to go use another bathroom?" He pointed at the closed door of the bathroom visible just beyond the curtain.

"Because I respect the 'Patients Only' sign on the door."

"That's just for show. Anyway, what are you thinking of getting? Pizza?"

"You're going to eat whatever they bring you then eat a pizza later?"

"Not a whole one. But I am injured and need to keep up my strength to ensure a full recovery." He winked, drawing another roll of her eyes. "You can have whatever I don't finish."

"Unbelievable. You'd better watch your weight or I'm always going to have to be on top to stop you from crushing me."

He was about to respond when man with a tray walked in, followed by a generously proportioned young blonde in a colorfully patterned top, who flounced into the room dragging a cart with various apparatuses attached. Tony nodded to the man, who set the tray on the bedside table, then grinned at the woman. "Hello."

"Hi, Mr. DiNozzo. I'm Maryanne and I'm your CNA for the next…" Her face lit up as she looked from Tony to Ziva and back again. "Omigod! I totally saw you guys on the news earlier today! You were at the Zoo and you saved the pandas and fed the elephant! That was so awesome! So are you guys a real couple? Because they keep showing you kissing…"

* * *

"And what do you think Tony and Ziva would do in this situation?"

"Abby, will you stop it?"

"You're the one who's always bringing them up."

"Because I'm worried, not because I want to think about them…that way."

"You have no investment in this relationship, so that makes your interest a little weird. And possibly kinky. Can we trace this all back to that day she handcuffed him to his chair? Should we have gotten you some therapy after that?"

"I'm concerned about what's going to happen with the team."

"Aw, you're afraid they'll break up and you'll get caught in the middle? It's not like they're gonna force you to choose who to live with in front of a judge, McGee."

"No, but you aren't actually that far off. Wait a minute…does this handwriting look familiar to you?"

"A little. What are you talking about with the break up thing? You don't think they're going to…"

"I didn't mean them and you need to focus, Abby. Look at the envelope and concentrate."

"I can't concentrate unless you tell me…oh, ginger snaps!"

"Ginger snaps?"

"It's like spork, but good."

* * *

Tony peeked under the lids of the various dishes on his tray. The chicken smelled pretty good and so did the soup. He made a face when he got to the vegetables. "You want some carrots and peas to tide you over until you get our pizza?"

Ziva made a face, sticking her tongue out a little. "I've had enough hospital food to last me a lifetime, thank you."

"Bet you wouldn't say no if offered you my brownie. Which I am _not_ offering, by the way." He covered it with his hand as she made a grab, realizing too late what she was really after. "Hey! Who said you could have my tiny ginger ale?"

She popped the top on the half-size soda can and took a long sip, smacking her lips in satisfaction. "I'm sure you can call Maryanne to get you another one."

"I can't believe she was hitting on me right in front of you."

"She was doing a pretty pathetic job of it if that was what she was doing."

He stopped trying to cut his food one-handed and speared the chicken breast with his fork, raising the whole thing to his mouth to take a bite. "Mmm. Not bad. I wonder if I'll need a sponge bath in the morning."

Ziva looked at him critically. "You're being released tomorrow. If you can't manage to clean up on your own, I can assist you."

"I can't ask _you_ for a sponge bath! Not while I'm laid up, anyway."

"Why would you need me to bathe you in any other situation?"

"Not bathe me…take a bath or a shower with me, yeah, but that's different."

"I still fail to see the distinction."

"Remember the last time we took a shower together?"

"Before I left for…my business trip? You slipped and almost dropped me."

"Oh yeah." He'd forgotten that part. He'd had her pressed against the wall with her legs wrapped around his waist and when he'd tried to step back his foot had slipped. "But I didn't actually drop you and we were already done and…we're getting off the point. If I let you help me out when I'm like this that's what you'll be thinking about the next time we try to have…" he trailed off when he heard a laugh from behind the curtain.

A voice drifted over, "Don't stop on our account."

The elderly man's scandalized wife chastised, "Harold!"

"I'm in the gosh darn hospital, Edith! Let me have a little fun." He pulled back the curtain to peek at Tony and Ziva. "You'll have to forgive my wife for being such a prude. And you should probably forgive me for finding your wife so foxy. Rowr. I doubt you'll blame me, you lucky dog."

Edith seized the curtain from Harold's hand and replaced it before Tony had a chance to respond. "You'll have to excuse him, dears. He's on medication."

Tony took another bite of his chicken and eyed Ziva. "Think I should have corrected him?"

She considered him for a moment. "No. This way it won't be awkward for him when I show you what it's like to be injured and sharing your hospital bed."

* * *

"What did Gibbs say?"

"He said to make sure before we have him called out of interrogation again."

"I guess Earnshaw's big bro isn't the well of information we'd hoped. Well, I'm running the prints now, so we'll know in a minute if the ones on the envelope you bagged at the apartment match the ones on the suicide note."

"It might not be enough. We should call someone in to analyze the handwriting."

"You and I both agree that it looks like the same handwriting! There's the long loop on the lower-case 'g's and the funky flourishes on the upper-case 'T's and…"

"What?"

"I was gonna try and spell something with the letters we looked at, but I realized I shouldn't have started with 'g' and 'T'."

"Great. We still can't compel prints based on a comparison between an envelope that went through the postal system and Earnshaw's suicide note that, may I remind you, doesn't have our suspect's name on it."

"You're such a party pooper, McGee. Don't rain on my case-cracking parade! See if I listen to you the next time you wanna gossip about Tony and Ziva."

"It's not gossip, Abby. It's legitimate concern. I think Gibbs is going to have one of them transferred."

"Did he _say_ that?"

"He told Tony yesterday that if he and Ziva didn't behave he'd split them up. Permanently."

"Oh. So as long as they don't go all Palmer and Lee on us, it's cool."

"You think Gibbs will be, um, cool with what they're showing on all the news shows?"

"Come on, McGee. It was a little kiss that lasted, like, three seconds. It just looks worse, or better, I guess, because the networks pause it right there. And all this time I was worried you were turning into a Peeping Tim."

"What?"

"It's just cute. You're worried the team is going to get broken up and it's expressed as obsessive spying on…oh, yeah! Prints match! Call Gibbs back!"

"Didn't we already go over this?"

"Since when does Gibbs care about probable cause? You can think of something on your way there!"

* * *

Tony popped the last bite of brownie into his mouth just as the phone beside his bed rang. Ziva got to it before he could. "Yes…McGee. Yes, he's fine…you're kidding. No, I'll be there in ten minutes." She dropped the phone back into its cradle. "I'm sorry, but I have to leave. I'm taking your cell and I'll be back as soon as I can." She pulled her coat on and leaned down to peck his lips. "When I come back I'll bring pizza."

"Good." He watched her leave the room without a backward glance. He smiled as he pushed his tray away and settled back on his pillows. That coat sweeping out behind her got him every time.

A moment later the curtain pulled back to reveal a grinning Harold. "She looks flexible. Is she flexible?"

Tony looked for something to distract himself, but nothing was in reach. He turned to Harold and nodded. "Uh, yeah, pretty flexible."

"Nice accent, too. She one of them mail-order brides?"

"Did your wife go home, Harold?"

"No, just to the ladies'. We can chat about…oops." He yanked the curtain back in place.

Edith's voice squeaked, "You leave that poor boy alone, Harold! He's in the hospital!"

"And were do you think I am? The spa?"

Tony found the TV control and turned it on, only to find that he and Ziva were the top story on the evening news. He sighed and started preparing himself for a long night.


	15. Chapter 15

Ziva had dropped her bag on her desk and folded her coat on the file cabinet before she realized that there was no one from the team in the squad room. She picked up the handset of the phone on her desk but hesitated. Flipping through the Rolodex, she found the extension for the lab and sighed. She hadn't thought she'd been gone that long.

Abby picked up on the second ring. "Abby Sciuto, NCIS Forensics Lab."

"Are McGee and Gibbs with you?"

"Ziva! McGee said you were coming but I thought he was just lying so I'd give him a piece of cake…"

"Is he there?" Ziva tried not to sound short.

"Yeah, he's right here. Do you want to talk to him?"

"No, I'll be right down."

"You're already here? That's so cool because…" Ziva placed the phone on the desk without hanging up and headed for the elevator. When she arrived in the lab a minute later, Abby was still speaking into the receiver, "…and the fake director kept giving me formal reprimands. I had to dress up in what he called 'work-appropriate attire,' like, every day. I felt like an old-lady tour guide at some dead New England author's house, y'know, like Hawthorne or someone. And this one time, in the squad room…"

McGee stifled a laugh as Ziva knitted her eyebrows. "Um, Abby?"

She spun and dropped the phone. "Eeee!" She almost knocked Ziva down charging to embrace her. "It's so good to see you not dead again!"

Ziva returned the hug warmly, slightly surprised by the reception. "It's good to see you too, Abby."

"Do you want some cake? Because I got you a cake!" She bounced to the refrigerator case and removed a pink cardboard box, tilting it so Ziva could see through the clear cellophane layer in the lid. The cake was frosted in chocolate, with red writing that read 'Welcome Back, Ziva.' Abby set it on the table and continued to prattle as she rushed around retrieving plates and forks. "I tried to get black frosting, but it wasn't my regular bakery so they looked at me funny and said chocolate was the best they could do. I was planning a little party or something, but I'm hungry and McGee and you are probably hungry too so…Oh! I should call Ducky and see if he wants cake! Be right back!" She dashed toward the phone in her office.

Ziva remained in the same place she'd been standing since she'd entered the lab, now holding a small stack of paper plates. "Is she feeling all right?"

McGee placed his pile of plastic utensils on the table next to the cake box. "She's been letting out a lot of repressed emotion since Quincy and his, um, goons left."

"Goons is right." Abby called from the other room, hanging up the phone. "Ziva, you have no idea how lucky you are that you weren't here for that. Except for the whole getting shot thing, and you probably would have gone with the team wherever they won't tell me they went. Hey, can you tell me anything? Because I know you all ended up in Israel in the hospital and Gibbs has taught me a thing or two about coincidences, so…spill."

Ziva gave Abby an appraising look. She opened the cake box slowly, then whipped her knife out of her belt and used it to cut a generous slice of cake, slapping it on a plate. She took a bite, chewing it leisurely. "Mmm…this is really good."

"And they say the first piece is the hardest." Abby gingerly took the knife from Ziva and cut three more pieces. "I guess that means you can't say anything?"

"Sorry, Abby. You'll have to stick with torturing McGee for information."

His fork paused halfway to his mouth. "Hey!"

Abby ignored him. "No, he's been surprisingly resilient. Any idea where I can get some cheap sodium thiopental? Or maybe you've got a hidden stash of your own in one of your safes?" She grinned expectantly.

"Why would I need it? I've got plenty of other ways of making people talk. Good work finding my weapons locker, by the way. What gave it away?"

"I guess I just have good instincts in the field." She glanced at the cake on the table at her left. "Although I might have discovered it by accident when I tripped while collecting up all of your shoes. No matter what anyone says, getting clocked in the head with a sheet of drywall hurts. Anyway, can I play with your assault rifle sometime?"

Ziva smiled. "My Galil? Sure, as long as you're careful with it." McGee gave her a quasi-approving look that lasted until she added, "It was a gift from my father and I haven't had a chance to break it in with an invasion yet."

A voice in the door interrupted them, "Started without me, I see."

Ducky accepted the plate Abby offered him. "I already had your piece cut and ready for you, Ducky. Why'd Palmer leave early?"

He took a bite of the cake before answering, "I'm sure someone in legal is asking the same question about Agent Lee. I hope you thought to get some milk to go with this cake, Abby. It's delightful, but very rich."

"When have you ever known me to be unprepared?" She walked to the refrigerator case. "Nobody who wants milk answer that."

Ziva accepted a paper cup of cold milk and smiled. She'd missed the camaraderie at NCIS more than she'd realized, and being back was even better than she'd expected. The only thing missing was…

"Tony!" Abby shouted, pulling Ziva out of her momentary reverie. "I almost forgot because we'd heard already, but Tony's really okay?"

"Yes. He's being released from the hospital tomorrow. He'll be laid for a while, but fine once he heals."

McGee nearly choked on his cake. "Um, Ziva, I think you mean 'laid up.'"

She was a little put off; she hadn't been intending to make an error as she often did with Tony. She'd discovered within a week of her assignment to NCIS that she really liked his progression of facial expressions when she said the wrong word – the perplexed look of contemplation followed by the moment of revelation flowing into the more amused than patronizing smile as he corrected her. She looked around at her laughing colleagues and asked, "What did I say?"

"More about your plans once you get him home than you intended to, I'm sure," Ducky replied, patting her shoulder. He looked at the still giggling Abby. "Do we have anything new on our mystery killer?"

"Nada." She turned to click her mouse and pulled up a photo different from the one on the BOLO.

Ziva squinted at the image, trying to decide if the familiarity was due to having seen the other photo or seeing the actual person. "I think I've seen him somewhere. Do you have another angle?"

"I've got about a hundred." Abby set the computer to run a slideshow of enhanced stills from the surveillance video.

"Stop!" Ziva suddenly shouted, the image clicking in her mind. "I saw him at the panda enclosure today. He was a Zoo employee. I think his name was…Griffin? No, Gifford."

Abby transferred the image to the larger screen as her fingers flew over the keyboard. "He looks a lot like Earnshaw, so it explains why we got the two confused, especially since you couldn't see the big ugly mole under his ear in the photo on the BOLO. _McGee_."

"Hey, I picked the clearest picture we had at the time and used it. In case you've forgotten, we were getting pressure from Director Shepard to make some headway on the case." He leaned over her shoulder to look at what she was doing.

"Oh, yeah, because Cynthia was so scary when she came down here with that flame-thrower demanding to know why we hadn't caught the killer yet."

"It looked like a fairly good picture. It's not like we had one without the hat or sunglasses, and the mole is only visible in a few of the shots, like he knew were the cameras were and was trying to hide it."

"Aha!" A driver's license appeared on the screen – Edward Gifford. "I cross-referenced Gifford with the Zoo's employee list and bam! There's our killer! Can we go pick him up?"

"As soon as Gibbs is finished with Earnshaw's brother. I'm not calling him out of Interrogation again."

"Don't be a wuss, McGee. This is good news! Gifford, the inside pandassassin, avoided the cameras and waited for his best shot at Tai Shan in the public eye. I watched all the footage, and that was the closest our fuzzy little buddy got to the crowd all morning. Of course, that now gives us two suspect panda-haters who work directly with our Chinese friends."

"Two?" Ziva had been busy wondering how much trouble she and Tony were going to be in for failing to notice the man who'd asked them to wait while Smith was on the phone was the man who's photo they were flashing. "Who's the other?"

"Keeper Smith. We compared what we think are her prints on an envelope from Earnshaw's apartment to prints on his suicide note and they match. Plus, McGee tracked a money order to Earnshaw's checking account. It turns out she wired him almost $20,000 yesterday evening."

Ziva tried to get everything straight in her head. "Are you suggesting that Smith and Gifford set up a plot to kill the baby panda, then tried to frame Smith's ex-husband when it failed because Gifford shot Lt. Miller by mistake?"

"Exactly. It's like a Scooby-Doo mystery. If Keeper Smith turns out to be a man in a mask, I will totally freak."

"Wait…" Something wasn't settling right with Ziva. She'd seen Earnshaw just before he'd taken his own life and he claimed he hadn't intended to…that was it. "Why did Earnshaw say that he didn't mean to kill Lt. Miller when he wasn't even there that day?"

"Did he actually say Lt. Miller?"

"No. He said 'that man.' I just assumed…"

"What the hell are you all doing?" Gibbs stood in the doorway, a look of anger and confusion on his face.

"Solving the crime, Gibbs!" Abby answered immediately. "We think it's an inside job perpetrated by disgruntled panda people."

His eyes found the large chocolate cake on the table. "You better have a damn big piece of that for me while you explain this."


	16. Chapter 16

Gibbs rubbed his temples and tried to pay attention to the hurried conversation going on in the lab. He'd taken two bites of the large piece of cake Abby had handed him before pushing it away. Hearing that they'd basically failed to apprehend a suspect who'd been right in front of them made him lose his appetite. For her part, Ziva had moved to stand between McGee and Ducky on the other side of the table the moment he'd walked into the room. At least she had the good sense to look uncomfortable. He looked at the picture on the screen in front of him. "Do we have enough to get Smith or not?"

Abby shook her head. "We know she gave him the money, but we can't definitely say it what it was for. She could argue that she was just trying to help out her destitute ex. And we can't be sure about the prints on the suicide note until we get hers for comparison. Chain of evidence and all those things you hate to hear about…"

Gibbs tried to dial down the intensity of his glare as he asked Ziva, "And you're sure that the guy you saw today is the same guy who's in this photo?"

She nodded sharply. "Yes."

"Right." He took a deep breath. "Abby, we got an address?"

She slapped a post-it to his lapel. "Like I would do a big dramatic reveal and not give you his home address. And McGee had the foresight to call the personnel office at the Zoo to make sure he was off shift."

He turned an alarmed glance on the younger agent. "You didn't tell them anything, did you?"

"Just said we were looking to do some routine follow up after what happened today. I even asked them when he'd be at work next, so if he has a friend in that office they won't tip him off that we're coming to his house."

"Good thinking, McGee." Gibbs glanced at the paper Abby had stuck to him and estimated a very long twenty-minute drive if some things weren't resolved immediately. "Pull the car around. We'll grab your gear. Ziva…with me." He waited until she'd quietly stepped into the elevator beside him. He removed a folded copy of the BOLO from his pocket as the car began its ascent. "You want to explain to me why you didn't notice this little similarity the first time you saw the bastard?"

"Gibbs, I'm not even supposed to be here right now. I had to fly all night to get back to DC, only to find out that instead of having a chance to get over my jet lag, I had to come to work. Do you know what time it is in Tel Aviv right now? 0130."

He sighed, stopping the elevator and turning to face her. "I said explain, not make dumb excuses."

"Fine." She kept her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she turned to address him more directly. "The picture on the BOLO was the only photo I saw from the surveillance video, and that could have been you or McGee for all the recognizable features. When I showed the photo to Smith, she reacted but denied recognizing the man. I assumed this was because she knew it was her ex-husband. Tony also showed me Earnshaw's license photo on our way to talk to Smith, so I recognized him easily when he arrived. He was holding a gun. He ran. He confessed to Lt. Miller's murder just before he killed himself. I thought the case was resolved until I talked to McGee." Her eyes glinted in the half-light of the halted elevator.

He was still angry, but satisfied by her explanation. "Are you finished?"

"No, I'm not. I realize that you're pissed off that Tony and I didn't match Gifford's face to the face on the BOLO, but at the time we were looking at Robert Earnshaw as our prime suspect and we had no reason to suspect anyone else. And not to put too fine a point on it, but I'm tired, I'm hungry and I haven't changed my clothes in over twenty-four hours."

Her insistence amused him. He'd missed having a team member that he couldn't cow with a slap. Tony and McGee had their ways of getting their points across, but neither was as direct or unrelenting as Ziva. Gibbs liked having an argument with someone other than Jen or Fornell every so often. He seemed to remember provoking Ziva in a conversation earlier in the day, but he pushed anyway. "Anything else?"

"Oh, plenty, but since you told me you don't want to hear anything about Tony and I doing things outside the strictly professional realm, yes, I think that's it." She flipped her hair and squared her shoulders, staring straight ahead.

He gave her a light tap on the back of her head before breaking into a smile. "You should think about a shower too, that's all." He restarted the elevator. "And for the record, we checked out the Zoo employees yesterday and Gifford looked clean."

The elevator doors separated and she was halfway to her desk before she answered, "I know. McGee told me. We still should have noticed."

"Yeah, you should have." He pulled on his coat and watched her grab McGee's coat, backpack and holster, taking the backpack from her. "Now let's go get this bastard."

* * *

McGee sat in the driver's seat of the car nervously drumming his fingers against the wheel as he waited for Gibbs and Ziva to emerge from the front door. Or maybe just Gibbs. He had the sinking feeling that Ziva was going to be chained to her desk for a while. This couldn't be good for his whole 'keeping the team together' plan.

He recalled Gibbs' speech to Tony a few days earlier, the one about being distracted when one became involved with a coworker. If not recognizing a guy they had on film murdering a Naval lieutenant didn't count as unfocused, McGee didn't want to know what did. It could involve someone getting shot. Probably Ziva, given the recent trend. He doubted the third time would be a charm in such a case. And if the worst happened, Tony would be devastated. That would be like losing two teammates. McGee nibbled on the end of one of his nails, trying to convince himself that he was just being paranoid.

A sharp knock on the glass unexpectedly grabbed his attention. Gibbs stood beside the car, glaring through the window. "McGee! Get out of my seat!"

He carefully opened the door, getting out as quickly as he could while forgetting his seatbelt was still buckled. He clicked the button and jumped from the car. "Sorry, boss." Gibbs nodded and slipped behind the wheel. McGee was about to run around the front of the car to the front passenger seat when he noticed Ziva disappearing into the car. He grabbed the handle of the door behind the driver's seat, wondering, not for the first time, why the most competent driver had to be relegated to the back seat. On the plus side, it appeared that any conflict that had been brewing had been resolved. He let out a sigh of relief.

The relief didn't last as Gibbs screeched out of the parking lot, barely slowing until they arrived at Gifford's address fifteen minutes later. He checked his watch. "Wow. I thought it would take at least a half hour to get here."

"Funny. I thought twenty minutes," Gibbs replied. "Apartment 5B. Looks like a walk-up."

McGee looked at the older building and was unenthusiastically inclined to agree. Gibbs and Ziva were already knocking on the door of Gifford's apartment when he exited the stairwell a few minutes later. She winked at him. "You're like the Bad Wolf."

He leaned his hand on the wall and bent over as he tried to catch his breath. "I didn't…know…you watched…_Doctor Who_." At her quizzical look, he tried to explain, "There was…this whole Bad Wolf thing…running through time to…"

"I was referring to the story about the Little Pigs. The Bad Wolf huffing and puffing, yes?"

"Oh, you mean the Big Bad Wolf?"

"Does size matter? In this case, I mean?"

He didn't have time to formulate the witty and slightly risqué response he wanted because he could feel Gibbs glaring. "Um, forget it."

"If you two are through discussing fairy tales, it doesn't appear that Mr. Gifford is planning to let us in." Gibbs tried the knob. "Good thing he trusts his neighbors."

"Um, boss?" He remained in the hallway, watching Gibbs and Ziva enter the apartment.

"Yeah, McGee?"

"We don't exactly have the warrant yet."

"Is it on its way?"

"I got the call that it had been signed, so it should be."

"So we won't exactly touch anything until it…hey!" McGee rushed into the apartment, pulling his weapon from its holster as he saw his teammates run down a hall. He could hear some raised voices as he rounded a corner into a bedroom.

Ziva was pushing Gifford against the floor. "Dammit!"

"Are you hurt?" McGee asked nervously.

"No." She continued to hold the suspect down with one hand and she rapidly felt her pockets with the other. "I don't have any cuffs on me."

Gibbs tossed a set to her and knelt next to Gifford. "I don't suppose you've got anything to tell us that might make us inclined to like you just a little bit. Say, enough for us to talk to someone about forgetting the death penalty?"

Ziva pulled him up by his arms and Gifford actually began to cry. "She told me I'd do it if I loved her. I was just supposed to shoot the panda, not the guy." McGee felt a little embarrassed for him as he started to blubber while Ziva pushed him toward the living room. "He just came at me and I didn't even realize the safety was off. She gave me the gun and told me to kill the panda. I didn't even want to do that, but she told me we couldn't be together if I didn't do it."

"Who? Who gave you the gun?" Gibbs asked.

"Steph." Ziva shoved him roughly into a chair that looked like it was supposed to be patio furniture. "She asked for it back and told me she'd handle it herself. She's at the Zoo now. She's gonna do it tonight."

"Are you talking about Stephanie Smith, the keeper?"

"Yeah," Gifford sniveled.

Gibbs pointed to a man who had just arrived in the doorway of the apartment. "You, Collins, right?"

The man nodded. "I'm delivering the warrant."

"Good. You're gonna be waiting here with Agent McGee until a team gets here to sweep the apartment, then escorting Mr. Gifford here back to NCIS McGee."

"Uh, yes, sir."

"Boss, what…"

Gibbs didn't give McGee a chance to finish. "Once you sign over the apartment, take him back and put him on ice. I don't want him talking to anyone until I get there. You know the drill, Tim."

McGee had the sinking feeling that he was going to be missing all the action. "Yeah, but where are you and Ziva going?"

"To stop a panda assassination." He followed Ziva out the door, but looked back in a moment later. "Don't tell anyone I just said that in all seriousness."

McGee nodded. It made sense. If there was a chance there was going to be shooting, it was best that Gibbs and Ziva went.


	17. Chapter 17

The news crews were filming outside the gate since the Zoo had been closed and access restricted for the remainder of the day. Ziva ran ahead of Gibbs up the darkened path, suppressing a smile as she took a left at the giraffe enclosure and arriving at the panda habitat a few seconds before him. A quick survey told her all she needed to know. She turned to Gibbs as he came up behind her. "Security detail is gone. We didn't let them know about the inconsistencies in Earnshaw's case?"

"Didn't want to tip anyone off and make Smith think she had to run. If she really wants to finish the job, she'll do it now while she thinks she's got a clear window to shoot the panda." He ducked under the crime scene tape and looked at Ziva. "Is it just me, or do you think might fall under the authority of Fish and Wildlife or someone like that?"

"I have no idea."

"Given the whole diplomatic angle," Ziva smiled at the disdain in Gibbs' voice at the words, "it may fall to State. They're gonna have a hell of a time convincing the Chinese to let us keep the damn bears once they find out one of the keepers was trying to kill one of them."

"True, but I was actually referring to the fact that I don't know who in your government would have jurisdiction in this case."

"Us. Clearly." He smirked and tried one of the doors of the pavilion, pulling it open gently when he found it unlocked. He held a finger over his lips and pointed to the glassed-in office. No one sat at the active monitoring station.

Ziva leaned toward the glass, staring through her reflection. The cameras trained on the pandas revealed that two were sleeping and one was eating. It was difficult to tell from the varied camera angles, but she was fairly certain that Tai Shan was one of the sleeping pandas. A door opened, revealing a shadowy form on the monitor she was focused on. "Gibbs?"

He took a few steps down the wide hallway, peering into the dimly lit display areas. He pointed to the second one before returning to her side. "The door just opened in that one. We need to find the way in."

They entered the office, quickly clearing it before moving to an open door marked 'Restricted.' The strong smell of animals living in close quarters assailed them in the narrow passage that looked as if it served as the main artery behind the scenes of the panda habitat. They walked down the passage, but found no open door, nor any access to the indoor enclosures. Sounds echoed through the concrete hall and bounced off the various metal gratings, making it difficult to ascertain the direction from which any single noise was emanating. Ziva was slightly disoriented and looked to Gibbs for direction. He took a hesitant step back in the direction they had come before pointing at another door. "It looks like another hallway."

Despite his care in opening the door, it scraped loudly against the concrete floor. "Who's there?" Ziva recognized Smith's voice, which sounded nervous as it came from the second door on the right, the one Gibbs must have seen open from the other side of the enclosure.

He closed the door and moved forward slowly, beckoning Ziva after him. "NCIS. We'd like to talk to you Miss Smith."

"Don't come any closer. I'm here with Tai Shan and I'm armed. Just let me finish what I'm here to do and I'll answer any questions you have."

Gibbs held a finger over his lips and made a few signs to tell Ziva she was to remain quiet and out of sight for the moment. Advancing noisily to cover any noise she might make, he shouted, "I'm going to come down the hall and into the room."

"To whom am I speaking?"

"This is Special Agent Gibbs."

"Really?" He stepped into the room, ahead of Ziva, blocking her view. Smith seemed to recognize him. "And you're here to convince me not to shoot him?"

Ziva stopped and pressed herself against the wall beside the door, staying out of sight. By angling her line of sight correctly, she had a view of the room from a large convex mirror mounted on the wall. The panda was cowering in the corner, making noises that sounded almost like a child's whimpers. Smith stood over him, pointing her gun at the terrified creature. Gibbs had moved into the room, his weapon draw but aimed at the floor. If it became necessary, Ziva judged that she could take a half step into the doorway and hit Smith. She tightened her grip on her Jericho.

Gibbs continued his attempts to talk to the distraught keeper. "Why would you want to shoot…Tai Shan?"

"Because he…you don't know what it's like to work with pandas. Everyone loves the pandas. Once they find out where you work, it's all they can talk about. My own mother cares more about him than she does about what's going on in my life."

"But is that his fault?" Ziva couldn't see Gibbs' face as he spoke, but she could imagine his fight to keep his expression neutral. She tried not to laugh as she contemplated the whole new meaning he was bringing to the idea of 'panda diplomacy.' "Explain to me why you would want to hurt something you cared for, something you helped raise."

"Yes!" Smith's voice was verging on hysterical. "I was here every night watching him to make sure he was safe, and I was at every vet appointment making sure he was healthy. Do you know how many panda cubs died at this zoo when the previous pair was here? Five!"

"So you must be very proud of Tai Shan."

"Yes, I am. And you know the thanks I get? They take him away from me! I sacrificed my marriage for him and they're going to take him away!"

"Who?" Gibbs left hand twitched slightly and Ziva tensed. The moment to act was approaching.

"The Chinese! He's our baby but they get to take him away! But I won't let them! And I won't let you stop me!" Smith abruptly swung her gun up and fired.

The hallway where Ziva stood echoed with a sudden racket. She tried to step into the room, but she was bowled over by a small, furry blur. She heard glass shattering and Smith screaming and sobbing. Pushing herself into a sitting position, she called, "Gibbs!"

He answered immediately, "I'm fine, Ziva. Everybody's fine."

The small panda that had knocked her down had reached the closed door at the end of the hall and lumbered back toward her, mewling and grunting as he bumped his head against her legs. She reached out tentatively and stroked his soft fur. "The panda appears unharmed."

"She shot the glass." Gibbs appeared in the door, gently propelling a cuffed and sobbing Smith ahead of him.

She moaned, "I couldn't. I couldn't do it." Tai Shan rumbled and shambled away, toward the door at the end of the hall. "Don't hate me, Tai. Please…"

Ziva stood, brushing herself off. "So what do we do now?"

"Have you been away that long, Officer David? We're going to take Miss Smith here back to NCIS for questioning."

"I meant with the panda. You said the glass is broken and we can't just leave him in the hall…" she trailed off. Gibbs was clearly not in the mood for any more panda-related discussion.


	18. Chapter 18

Ziva was uncharacteristically careful as she parallel parked Tony's Mustang outside of his building in the half-light of an early dawn. Finally sure she done both a passable and legal job, she shut off the engine. She blinked as the car she had just barely tagged while pulling forward came into clear focus. She smiled as she squinted to read the red Mini's license plate – FZ-I192. It was only appropriate the car she had hit was her own.

Getting out and inspecting the bumpers, she discovered that the light contact hadn't left any marks on either vehicle. She hoped the keys to the Mini were upstairs, preferably somewhere obvious. She didn't mind driving Tony's car, but she'd feel better driving her own. She suspected he would feel the same. Handing the keys to her earlier that day had looked more painful to him than all of his injuries combined.

Turning off the Mustang's lights and shutting the door quietly, she contemplated just running upstairs with her backpack and crashing for a few hours. She was exhausted after spending the night at the Zoo and the office. It seemed strange to her that she'd filled out less paperwork after three months undercover for Moussad than she had for less than a day's work on the an attempted assassination of a captive bear.

She yawned, drumming her fingers against the trunk. She was going to need clothes and shampoo and her toothbrush and…she opened the trunk and pulled her two suitcases out. She bumped them up the stairs on the stoop and unlocked the front door, thankful that Tony lived in a building with an elevator.

There was something different about his apartment when she opened the door and flicked on the lights. It was almost too familiar. She performed a quick inspection, which revealed the reason why. The entertainment center and couch were his, but the coffee table, end tables, lamps and one of the chairs were hers. Even more surprising, her piano now stood in the space she remembered his dining table occupying.

Chairs and tables were one thing, but the piano? She lifted the lid and gently struck a few keys. It was still in tune. Tony had either gotten a few very careful friends to help or hired movers to get it from Gibbs' house to his apartment. Of course, Abby had told her that she, Ducky, Palmer and Lee had managed to get it to Gibbs' house when they'd cleared her apartment during her absence. Ziva ran her hand over the top of the instrument, glad to see it dust-free. An empty glass vase stood on a cloth on top of it. She suddenly ran out the door, returning a few minutes later with the roses she'd left sitting in the back seat of the Mustang. They were slightly wilted, but would hopefully revive after being placed in water.

The thought was enough to prompt Ziva to head for the bathroom once she had tended to the flowers. After spending the day and part of the night around Zoo animals, she was reminded that she'd really been looking forward to a shower. She dragged her larger suitcase behind her to the bedroom, placing it on the bed and unzipping it, noting that Tony had also placed her nightstand on the right side of the bed. Abby hadn't mentioned any of the items in that, so Ziva suspected that not all of her drawers had been searched. Abby wouldn't have brought up the assault rifle and forgotten the velvet lined handcuffs, among other items even less suitable to be mentioned in the workplace. Ziva pulled the drawer out and did a quick inventory; everything seemed jostled, but present. It was always possible Agent Lee had been the one to move the nightstand.

Ziva returned to the task at hand and searched through the piles of folded clothes in her suitcase without finding the bag in which she'd placed her all of her toiletries. Closing her eyes, she pictured her room at her father's house as it was just before she'd left. The bag was sitting on the bureau by the window. She sighed heavily and wondered why people tended to be impressed by her photographic memory; at least half the time it only helped to recall her own errors.

Grabbing a large bath sheet from the closet, she turned on the lights in the bathroom and placed it on the countertop, next to a new toothbrush still in its package. The water from the shower warmed quickly as she held her hand under the spray. She stepped into the shower and stood under the stream with her eyes closed, arms hanging limply at her sides. Eventually, she wiped the water from her face and reached automatically for one of the bottles lined up on the narrow ledge. The shampoo carried only the faintest fragrance, something between unscented lotion and clean linen. She worked the lather into her hair and rinsed it thoroughly before picking up the conditioner. She had rubbed a mesh sponge frothing with body wash to her calves before she realized that all the products in the shower were her normal brands.

Finishing her shower, she reached for her towel, noting several more familiar items on the counter behind it that she'd failed to see previously. She was torn – Tony was either being extremely thoughtful or completely ignoring everything she'd tried to tell him about this being a temporary arrangement. Buying personal hygiene products was one thing, but he'd also moved in half of her living room. On a whim, she walked into the bedroom and opened the closet to find her clothes hanging on the rod and her shoes lined up next to his on the floor. She went to his dresser to see which drawers he'd assigned to her, only to find the dresser from her own bedroom standing next to it. She rubbed her temples; his bedroom was too small to hold the extra furniture.

Still wrapped in her towel, she sank onto the bed, wondering why this turn of events wasn't quite as scary as she'd first thought it would be. After ten minutes or so, she dressed and dried her hair. Grabbing an apple from the refrigerator, she took the keys to the Mini from the kitchen counter, pulled on her coat and headed out the door.

* * *

Tony felt his left arm being moved to rest on his chest and the bed sinking slightly as a warm body snuggled next to him, but he wasn't awake enough to either question or understand what was going on. A few minutes of pleasant contact later, he softly asked, "Where's my pizza?"

Ziva nuzzled his neck. "It's six in the morning and I haven't been to bed yet. Just wake me when breakfast gets here."

"'Kay." Tony yawned and went back to sleep. When the nurse came in and woke him with her reprimands, he looked at the clock and discovered two hours had gone by. He did his best to rouse Ziva, who appeared to be ignoring the now shouting nurse. "Babe…I think she wants you out of my bed."

She muttered something about not sharing, but sat up. Calmly arranging her hair, she turned to the nurse. "Is he being discharged soon?"

The affronted nurse replied, "The doctors won't be making rounds until after breakfast, so I wouldn't know. And visiting hours don't start until 10 AM, ma'am, so I'll have to ask you to wait in the lobby until then."

Instead of the outburst Tony expected, Ziva stood and smiled, asking, "Do you like pandas?"

"Excuse me?"

"Pandas. The black and white animals they have at the National Zoo that aren't zebras?"

"I know what pandas are," the nurse answered testily, moving to check Tony's vitals.

"Do you like them?"

"Yes, but what does that have to do with…"

"I was at the Zoo last night preventing someone from killing the pandas. Earlier that day, I was groped by an elephant. I've had a rough twenty-four hours and I can be very, _very_ unpleasant when I haven't had enough sleep or enough to eat, so I'm just going to ask you very nicely to not scream at me this morning."

The nurse's expression cleared and broke into a smile as she finished writing down Tony's numbers. "I saw you on the news yesterday! And this morning! Are all the animals safe?"

"Yes. Now, is there any way I could get breakfast while I'm here?"

"I'll see what I can do." She bustled out of the room, pulling her equipment cart behind her.

Tony looked after her with a hurt expression. "She didn't even ask how I felt this morning."

"Yes, well…" Ziva took the remote from him and tuned the TV to the morning news. A perky anchor introduced some footage from the Zoo's PandaCam of Ziva stroking Tai Shan's head while Gibbs held a handcuffed woman. "I'm important. I got to pet the panda."

The clip abruptly changed. "And they still remember your elephant encounter," Tony teased.

She turned off the television. "We got there just in time. Gibbs managed to talk Smith down before she could hurt Tai Shan. She just shot the glass out of one of the windows and gave herself up."

He did a double take as he realized exactly what she was saying. "Whoa, hold on. Are you talking about Stephanie Smith the panda keeper?"

"Yes. I had to leave yesterday because we found out that Earnshaw didn't kill Miller. We arrested that guy you and I met at the panda pavilion, Edward Gifford, the real killer. He told us that Smith was at the Zoo to finish the job, which was supposed to be killing the panda in the first place. Gibbs and I got there just in time."

"Wow. And I thought Smith really liked her fuzzy little charges."

"She seemed a little off during her interrogation. She may be attempting to set up an insanity defense, but it seemed like she was pretty controlled up until we arrested her. She bribed Earnshaw to shoot the panda when Gifford didn't get it done. She even wrote his suicide note."

"Why'd he kill himself though? I mean, if he didn't do anything?"

"No idea. It's especially strange because he clearly said he didn't mean to kill anyone right before he shot himself. We could get it all sorted out tomorrow. McGee already got Gifford to give up a full confession."

"Huh. Point for the Probie." Tony yawned and stretched, testing his range of motion in his ankle as he did so. It didn't feel too bad. He could probably be pretty active as long as he kept it wrapped. "And did you say we'll get it sorted out _tomorrow_?"

"I did. We've all got the day off today, per orders of the Director. I think she wants to keep Gibbs off camera."

"Like that's an order she'd even have to say." He tried to move his shoulder, but found it stiff and sore. He was going to have to be careful if he had the day off with Ziva. He gave her the most provocative smirk he could manage. "So…got any plans for today?"

To his consternation, she regarded him seriously. "Why did you move so much of my stuff into your apartment?"

His face fell. He hoped to give her a grand tour and explain his plan as he went. "You've been there already?"

"I needed a shower and change of clothes."

"Right. Well, Gibbs was getting sick of all your stuff cluttering up his house and you would have needed your clothes and things anyway, so I figured…"

"Tony…"

"Okay, I have an ulterior motive, but it's not what you think."

"And what do I think?"

He took a deep breath. "That I'm trying to pressure you to move in with me."

"So you admit that?"

"To a point. Look, I thought we could try this for, like, two weeks and see what we think."

"And then I'll either be so thrilled about the arrangement that I won't want to leave or be the bitch who insists on moving out despite your best efforts?"

He smiled and took her hand. "No, you move out either way."

"You've lost me."

"Here's the thing – I've got five months left on my lease. I think if we decide that, yeah, we wanna live together, we'll want a bigger place. So, we do a trial run for a couple weeks and decide if this is something we want to do in the future. That way, when we go looking for your new apartment, we can either look for a place just for you or a place that I can move into when my lease runs out. Whatd'ya think?"

"Well…" Her frown transformed into a more neutral expression, then to one of surprise. "That's actually a really good idea."

He'd been quite pleased with himself when he'd come up with it, so he put on an air of insulted pride. "You don't have to look so shocked about it."

"No, I just…" He didn't get to find out what she 'just' as the nurse returned with two breakfast trays.

"Here we are. I managed to get you one, too," she said smiling at Ziva. "Can I ask you a question?"

Tony eagerly raised the head of his bed into a sitting position to inspect his breakfast as she replied, "Of course."

"Is the panda soft? Because they look so soft…"

"Yes, very soft."

"Oh, I thought so. I'll leave you two to it."

"Thank you." Ziva swatted Tony's hand away from her tray as she turned back. "Hey!"

"Sorry. Didn't think I had to ask if I could have your bacon…"

A/n: There will be some M rated content in chapter 19. It will most likely be worked into some other, more plot-related (or at the least some non-M rated scenes where Tony leaves the hospital, etc.) content, so I'll separate it with cuts or something. I'll let you know in a note at the beginning of the chapter. If you've read my fic 'Das Lederhosen,' the content in this story will be of a similar style. I'm not sure how much, as I've yet to write it, but just a warning in advance if you'd prefer not to read it.


	19. Chapter 19

**Warning**: This chapter contains some **M Rated content**. **If adult content offends you, please skip this chapter. **I have not changed the overall rating of the story to reflect this, as the rest of the story does not contain any such content, but I hope this note will be sufficient. A portion of this chapter does not contain adult content, so if you wish to read only this part, it is divided for your convenience. The first section does not contain adult content (innuendo, but nothing beyond what has been in other chapters). If you do not wish to read any adult content, _read only to the first break. _There is adult content in the second and third sections of the chapter.

* * *

Tony enjoyed his ride through the hospital to the main entrance shortly after breakfast. All in all, he couldn't complain – two free meals, attractive nurses fawning over him and a bottle of pain meds, to go. He pulled his coat over his shoulder to protect his arm in the sling from the cold as the automatic doors opened. Ziva leaned against the passenger side door of her Mini, frowning at him. "Was the wheelchair really necessary?"

His ankle felt much better, to the point where it didn't hurt to put weight on it while it was wrapped, but he wasn't about to be denied the pleasure of full-service medical care. "I didn't feel the need to argue with hospital policy, like some people who insist on walking out under their own power even though they're still recovering from gunshot wounds."

She rolled her eyes and opened the car door. "Yes, and the fact that I was able to walk out on my own after almost two weeks in the hospital just makes you look all the more pathetic."

"It was seventeen days," he corrected. Clear memories of her first hospital stay flooded his mind as he turned and thanked the nurse's aide as he stood. He didn't even want to think about the length of her hospital stay in Tel Aviv. Before sitting in the passenger seat, he leaned forward to kiss Ziva. "And I'm glad it was me and not you this time. Let's go home." He grinned, pulling the door shut before she answered.

Driving down the highway a few minutes later, she asked, "Want to stop for coffee?"

"No. I want to get home and get you out of those clothes."

She nearly rear-ended the car in front of them as she looked down at herself. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"It's not the clothes. It's that you've been in this country for over twenty-four hours and I've yet to get you naked. I just want to go home and strip you."

"That's all?"

"We'll see where things go once we're naked."

She gave him a sidelong glance. "Aren't you in pain?"

"I took a couple Tylenol. I'm not putting this off any longer just because I've got a little twinge in my arm. You do realize that it's been over a month since…"

"That reminds me!" She reached far into the backseat, turning away from the road completely as most of her upper body leaned into the gap between the seats. Tony adjusted the car's direction to prevent them from swerving into the other lane. She was slightly miffed when her head reappeared a second later. "Don't grab the wheel while I'm driving. It's dangerous. Anyway, this is what my father sent you." She dropped a slender box, about twelve inches long, into his lap.

He inspected the box carefully, looking for wires or evidence of powdery residue. The outside seemed safe; the inside could still be dangerous. He tensed and he held the box against his knee before opening it. "Does Moussad make killer pens?"

"Tony, it's a gift. My father isn't trying to kill you. He likes you."

"I know." He took a deep breath and held it before quickly opening the hinged wooden box. Unfolding the cloth inside, he found a small knife. The elaborate hilt was the only part visible, as the blade was encased in a leather scabbard. He exhaled as he gripped the knife and unsheathed it. It was just a knife. An eight-inch long, shiny, deadly knife that Ziva's father had sent him as a gift. He wasn't sure how nervous to feel. "Wow."

"Oooh, nice," she said approvingly, once again looking at him instead of the road. "See, I told you he likes you."

Tony nodded and slid the knife back into its sheath. Removing a piece of paper from the lid of the box, he read,

_This is to remind you that I expect you to take care of my daughter. If you are stupid enough to ever hurt her, you can rest assured that the one I will use when I hunt you down will be much bigger._

_Abraham._

Ziva was looking at him expectantly. "What does the note say?"

"Oh, just, hi, hope you like the knife, that kind of thing." He knew she could tell he was lying, but she let it go. He placed the knife and note back in the box, closing it carefully. "I'll, uh, have to thank him for this." Given what he had planned for when they arrived at his apartment, Tony thought it best to get off of the topic as quickly as possible. He said the first thing that popped into his head, "Do I smell?"

She didn't hesitate, "Yes."

"Bad?"

"Like the hospital. And the zoo. And sweat." She scrunched up her nose. "I can't believe I took a nap with you earlier, now that you mention it."

"Fine. Shower first, then sex."

"Bath," she corrected, "then sex."

"No."

"The doctor said you should take baths until the cast comes off to avoid getting it wet."

"He also said put a bag over it and that I could dry it with a hairdryer if it got wet inside. Why do I need the plastic bag if I'm taking a bath? Which I am not."

"Why not? You have a tub."

"I don't like baths. I like showers. I'm a grown man and I'm taking a shower."

* * *

"Ziva! I need your help!" Tony called from the steamy bathroom, half-undressed. He made a feeble attempt to shake his shirt off his arm as she appeared in the door. "I'm having trouble with the buttons."

She undid the button on the left cuff and helped him remove the shirt, remarking, "You didn't seem to have a problem with your pants. I found a bag for your cast." She slipped a plastic grocery bag over his right forearm, using some waterproof tape to attach it to his skin.

"That's gonna hurt when it comes off."

"Suck it up. You can manage with just one hand?"

"I don't know." Demonstrating his unchanged prowess with pants, he undid the button on her jeans. "Maybe you should stay, just in case." He slipped his hand up her shirt, but found that unclasping a bra was a little too complex for one hand. When that one hand was his left hand, anyway.

She pulled away from him. "Just get in the shower. I cleared the ledge so you can rest your arm on it."

Disappointed, he stepped under the hot stream, careful to point the showerhead away from his injured arm. He reached for his shampoo and grunted as a sharp pain shot through his shoulder. Pouring what seemed like a sufficient amount directly onto his head, he clicked the top of the bottle closed and tried to put it back, but it slipped to the floor of the tub. He groaned, leaning forward to retrieve it and feeling shampoo drizzling down his forehead toward his eyes, which he closed tightly. Not being able to see the shampoo bottle he had been trying to pick up, he stood, sending another pain though his shoulder. "Damn it!"

"Let me."

He kept his eyes closed as gentle hands massaged his scalp. "I thought you were abandoning me to my fate."

"I changed my mind." Using her naked body to push him, she directed him back under the spray to rinse his head. He found himself responding to her proximity in the usual way. "That's not a problem, is it?"

"Uh-uh." When the water had carried the last suds away, he opened his eyes. "God, you are beautiful." His hand ran down her body, moving smoothly over her slick skin.

"You're not so bad yourself." She was already lathering his body with soap, her hands roaming all over his chest, back, arm, stomach…

He gasped. "Making sure I'm extra clean, I see."

"Clean enough to eat." She continued down his legs, washing his whole body thoroughly.

He enjoyed the view as she bent over, but his mind was stuck on the last thing she'd said. "Now, when you said…you did mean…"

"I did." She moved the showerhead to rinse his body more efficiently, running her hands over his skin to make sure he was clean. "I hate the taste of soap."

"Ziva…" He gasped again as she stroked him with both hands. "Are you just teasing me?"

"At the moment. I think you'll be ready before long." She knelt in front of him, softly nipping shaft with her lips. She used her hands in conjunction with her lips and tongue; he held onto the curtain rod with his left hand. She ran her tongue along the underside of his fully erect length, kissing the head before pulling back with an admiring look on her face. "Very nice. I don't think I want to wait any longer. Are _you_ ready?"

"Oh…yeah." He watched breathlessly as she took him into her mouth. She periodically moaned in the back of her throat, sending vibrations to his core. Water beat against his back and trickled down his chest, adding to the sensations of warmth she was creating with her mouth. He continued to watch her moving as he felt his release build. His grip tightened on the shower rod and he cried out, "Oh! Zeeee-vah!"

He allowed himself a few moments to collect himself. "Oh, that was…nice."

Her tongue traced along his stomach and flicked against his flat nipples as she slowly rose. "Glad you approve."

"But you didn't…do that thing…you, uh, usually do."

"You mean the thing that makes your legs shake and your whole body feel weak? I didn't think it would be the best idea, given your current state of health." She lightly kissed his injured shoulder. "I'm not dragging you back to the hospital for slipping in the shower during a blow job."

"Would totally be worth it." He kissed her as her mouth finally arrived at his level, but immediately turned his head, making a face.

She laughed. "Oh, please. I don't mind the taste." She made a show of licking her lips. "I quite like it, actually." She ran her tongue up his jaw and he grimaced. "You are such a baby." She stepped out of the shower, pulling the curtain behind her. "I'm still tired, so be a good boy now that you're satisfied and let me sleep for a few hours."

She was already snoring under the covers when he emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later. He sighed, and carefully slipped into bed next to her.

* * *

Ziva opened her eyes and looked at the clock, surprised to find herself alone at almost one in the afternoon. She stretched and looked around the room. The television in the living room sounded like it was on, so that explained where Tony had gone. He hadn't spent the previous night arresting panda keepers and filling out forms.

Grabbing the blanket folded at the end of the bed, she wrapped it around her naked body; she hadn't bothered to dress after their shower. Walking into the living room, she leaned over the back of the couch and whispered into Tony's ear, "Come to bed."

He jumped. "Don't do that!"

"Sorry," she muttered, circling the sofa and sitting next to him. A basketball game was on and it took him a moment to notice that she was wearing nothing but a blanket. His eyes widened and she prompted, "Well…?"

"Yeah. Listen, I've been thinking and, uh, how is this supposed to work?" She looked at him in disbelief and he continued, "I mean, I know how it works, I'm just wondering how we're going to make it work with me at only 75?"

Her hand slipped into the open fly of his pajama pants and he inhaled sharply. "Hmm. I'd say you're only at about 10 right now, but don't worry. I'll have you at 100 in another minute or so." She continued stroking him lightly as she leaned into him, pressing her lips gently against his neck.

"You know…oh!…what I mean. Let's, uh, get to the bedroom and, uh, oh! Figure it out there."

Leaving the blanket on the couch, she took his left hand and led him down the hall. "Just lie on the bed and get comfortable. We'll go from there."

He unzipped his Ohio State hoodie and she helped him slip out of it. "I think maybe a pillow under my shoulder and arm…"

She waited as he arranged himself comfortably, pulling his pants off at the ankles. She crawled up his body, allowing his erection to rub against each bit of her skin that passed it. When she settled herself carefully on top of him, she asked, "Is this all right?"

"Not if you're just planning to lie there."

"Isn't that what you expect to do?"

"I just meant that you're putting pressure on my shoulder and it…could start to hurt if you don't move a little soon."

"Oh, sorry." She shifted her upper body to his left, dragging her breasts across his chest to feel the tickle of the hair. "Better?"

"Uh-huh." He kissed her eagerly.

She pressed her hips forward suddenly as his hand slipped between her legs. "Tony…" His fingers caressed her, slowly at first, then moving faster and exerting pressure in the right places. Her thighs tightened, trapping his hand, and she pulled her mouth away from his. "Enough. I want you. Now."

"Yeah."

She moved to a sitting position over his hips, smiling as she came down on him, taking him inside her almost too slowly. She settled onto him fully, taking a few deep breaths as she re-familiarized herself with his size and the muscles she had to contract for the best mutual experience. Her movements started slowly, mere twitches forward and back, but became more intense and rapid as she found a rhythm.

She extended her arms, supporting herself against the mattress as she began to push harder. His thrusts equaled hers in passion, but he allowed her to continue at the pace she chose. She sped up, leaning forward and letting her upper body rest on her right shoulder. Her moans began to increase in volume as the actions of her hips became more frenzied.

He clasped her against him with his good arm, encouraging her, calling her name. She responded in kind as she began to lose control. "Tony…oh, Tony…" Her screams were partially muffled in his sweat-slicked shoulder.

His hand gripped her still bucking hips as he made one last powerful thrust before his roar of pleasure sounded directly in her ear. She kissed him, hard, before he had a chance to catch his breath. Pulling back, she caressed his cheek. "Now I remember why I missed you so much."

"Was that the only reason?" She shook her head 'no' He took a few shallow breaths. "I think it might be my turn for a nap."

"Even though I did all the work?"

"Hey, I was…you like it on top!"

"I was kidding." She tangled her fingers in his chest hair and kissed him again. "It's good to be home."


	20. Chapter 20

Ziva kicked the driver's side door open as she managed the two backpacks in her lap and two coffees in her hands. Standing, she placed the coffees on the roof and slung a bag over each shoulder. She leaned into the car again. "Coming?"

"In a sec," Tony replied, struggling to open the passenger side door of the Mini with his right arm in a sling.

She rolled her eyes as he tried to reach over his body to open the car door with his left hand. "I'll get it."

"No, I've almost…" He made one last reach, only to bounce back and squawk with pain. "Okay, maybe you should get that."

Leaving the coffees on the roof, she rounded the back of the car and pulled the door open. He swung his legs out of the car and strained to stand, pulling on the roll bar. He finally extended his left hand to her. "Little help?"

"Oh, for the love of…" She took his proffered hand and pulled.

He silenced her with a kiss as he stood from the car with very little effort. "Gotcha."

"Tony, we're at work!" She glanced around the parking lot, which was mercifully empty. "Gibbs has been very clear about what he doesn't want to see."

"Well, he's not here and if he were, we wouldn't force him to look." She pushed his hand off her hip and handed him his backpack. "Aw, c'mon, Ziva."

"Fine." She abruptly turned and pressed her lips to his, startling him. As quickly she'd started it, she ended the kiss, retrieving the coffee cups and handing him one. "You'd better behave for the rest of the day."

He returned her smile as they walked toward the building. "I'll try, but remember – I'm injured. I may need a kiss to make it better every so often." She held the door open for him and they silently passed through security on their way to the elevator, which was long in coming. "Gibbs must be having a chat," Tony remarked, moving closer than strictly necessary.

She didn't react, even when his hand skimmed down her back. He was holding a coffee, so it wasn't as if he could even _do_ anything. Still, the closeness was immediately noted by the two casually dressed agents who emerged from the elevator as the doors opened. The redheaded man, Mather, said good morning then nudged his partner, whispering loudly, "Think we should have put a tarp down? I'll bet the elevator needs protection."

Ziva was too quick for anyone to even notice she'd done something, but once the elevator doors closed, Tony asked, "Why is your knife out?"

"Let's just say that I hope Agent Mather doesn't need his wallet wherever he's going." She sheathed her knife and held up a black leather billfold and square of denim. "Or his back pocket. I think I'll just leave these on his desk."

"Wow. And you didn't even spill your coffee. Uh, he did make a good point, though." He flicked the switch, dimming the lights as the elevator came to a jarring halt.

"We've been over this. No more sex in the elevator." She reached for the switch, but he held her hand back. "Tony, seriously. We're going to be late…"

"Another euphemism that makes me nervous." He spoke rapidly, "Look, this may seem like an odd question, especially considering I haven't brought it up until now, but I figured you'd have it taken care of, just because you're that kind of person."

"And what kind of person is that exactly?"

"Well, you plan ahead and have the angles covered, is all. So I've just been assuming that you've got us covered, but I should still ask, even though this is probably the wrong time and place."

She waited a moment, but he didn't continue. "Just ask."

"I'm sorry, this is just awkward because we should have talked about this a long time ago, but…"

"Tony!" She tried not to sound annoyed, but she was starting to get frustrated by his stalling.

"Right. Do we need to worry about protection?"

She laughed at the ridiculousness of the question. "I know you didn't bring all my weapons over from Gibbs house, but I sleep with my Jericho, and I put Glocks in both the nightstands. My Browning is in the kitchen in the drawer with the utensils and there's another Jericho in the couch. Not to mention that you've got your own weapons and I'm not exactly a peony when it comes to defending myself."

"Uh, pansy, you mean?"

"Whatever. My point remains valid. If anyone comes after me, I'm ready for them."

His expression changed from awkward amusement and slight confusion to concern. "Hold on. Why would people be after you?"

"Because that's the way it is." She wasn't sure that she wanted to tell him more. He knew she'd been involved with counter-terrorism, but he obviously didn't understand the number of enemies one could make in such a line of work. Scaring him off was not part of her long-term plan. She sighed. "In Europe, you saw how many people I interacted with. They aren't the types to piss off. I'm well aware that there's a chance one of them could try to track me down. It's part of the job."

He nodded. "Like how paroled criminals sometimes go after the cops that put them away?"

"Exactly!" she said, with more enthusiasm than she wanted. "You know what I mean, then, yes?"

"Yeah." Seemingly reassured, he restarted the elevator. "That was a weird turn in the conversation. I just wanted to ask you about birth control."

"Then why didn't you just ask that?" She sipped her coffee. "We don't have to worry about it. I have an IUD."

"Oh." He looked at her nervously. "Is that contagious?"

"It's a birth control device, not a disease. I had it placed a few years ago so I wouldn't have to worry about pills or anything while on missions." He still looked uneasy, so she tried to make light of it as they left the elevator, "Think of it this way – you've yet to make a useful donation here or at that clinic in Ohio."

Dropping his bag on his desk, he pretended to double over. "Ouch. That was a low blow."

"Tony, are you okay?" Abby looked at him with concern, having rounded the corner at an inopportune moment.

"He's fine, Abby," Ziva answered for him.

"Well, other than the broken arm, I'm just peachy."

As Abby moved to fuss over Tony's cast, Ziva sat at her desk and dialed her voicemail. After the third confusing message, she interrupted the chitchatting at the opposite desk, "What, exactly, is the ASPCA?"

"American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals," McGee provided before anyone else could answer, rounding the corner on the way to his desk. "Why?"

"They keep leaving me messages about appearing in some kind of public servant announcement on Animal Planet."

"I think you mean public _service_ announcement," McGee amended.

"I thought we were public servants."

"We are."

"So why isn't is a public _servant_ announcement?"

"Okay, tedious exchange," Abby interjected. "We're missing the fun part. Did someone at the ASPCA see your panda and elephant lovefest on TV and think you'd make a good wildlife spokesperson or something? Because that would rock out loud! Can't you guys see Ziva on TV, doing ads where she threatens violence and torture on people who hurt animals?"

"Um, yes," McGee replied, nodding his head thoughtfully.

"Definitely," Tony answered. He walked over to perch on the edge of her desk. "Maybe they'll give you your own show and you can show people how to stick up for animals through use of superior firepower."

"I'm not going on television." Ziva poked him in the arm as she joined him, sitting on the desk.

"You mean again?"

"Right, Gibbs."

He gave a general glare to the team before looking at Abby. "You said you had something?"

"Only the answer to the mystery of Robert Earnshaw's dying words, if that's good enough for you. Also, I'm glad you've finally learned to use your voicemail."

"You left it on my answering machine."

"Oh. Right, well, Earnshaw's car was finally delivered yesterday afternoon, so I took the liberty of looking it over. The right front end was smashed up like that time Ziva took out that golf cart…"

"Hey!"

"Point of reference! There was also some paint transfer and a little bit of blood on the bumper. Wanna hear what I think happened?"

"Earnshaw was in a hit and run with a bicyclist on his way to the Zoo," Gibbs stated.

"Okay, for once, I want to do the big impressive reveal, Mr. Magic Gut!"

"Metro PD logged the plate number from an eyewitness to the accident on Connecticut Ave. shortly before Earnshaw arrived at the Zoo the other day. The victim was a bike messenger. Pretty banged up, but alive."

Ziva tapped her chin, taking no notice of Tony, who was now carelessly leaning his shoulder against her. "I suppose that explains why Earnshaw said he didn't mean to kill anyone before he shot himself."

"Too bad he didn't just whisper 'Rosebud,'" Tony quipped. "Even McGee would have gotten that one."

"But not why he was carrying a suicide note!" Abby said. "What, I'm allowed to have more theories, right? All right. He was taking Prozac, which you found at his apartment, so he was depressed, possibly suicidal to begin with. Since I know Gibbs didn't manage to run the prints or calls on the prepaid cell phone under the driver's seat, is it possible I may have some further insight here?"

Gibbs smiled. "Clarify away."

"Excellent. I found prints on the phone that match Stephanie Smith and she started calling the number the afternoon of Lt. Miller's shooting. I think she bought the phone and gave it to Earnshaw along with the note. She talked to him from a phone at the panda pavilion just before he arrived, so he was probably on the phone when he hit the biker, which just proves that it's dangerous to plan crimes on a cell phone while driving…"

"Abs…"

"Oh, yeah. So I think she planned to have him kill the panda, then either talk him into offing himself or kill him herself and make it look like suicide."

"Makes about as much sense as anything else around here."

Abby looked proud; Ziva ignored the fact that Gibbs was staring at Tony and her.

The End

* * *

A/n: Thanks for reading (and reviewing if you did that too)! I don't know if this series will be continued. I've got something in mind, but at present it looks complicated, so I'm leaning toward no, but that could change at any moment, then change back again, followed by a complete turnaround in which I change my name, move to a new city and start a new boating school. I'm undecided at the moment, is what I'm really saying. Thanks again for reading. 


End file.
